Mr Smith Goes Home
by morgana07
Summary: Waking up in the Impala, Dean soon realizes his meeting with Zachariah has caused a lot more problems than he had. Finding Sam locked in a Psych ward soon becomes the least of his worries when he must fight to get his brother's scattered mind to recognize the truth. Angtsy/angry/worried!Dean & Hurt/limp/confused!Sam *From Season 4's It's A Terrible Life*
1. Chapter 1

**Mr. Smith Goes Home**

**Chapter One**

**Summary: ** _Waking up with jumbled memories & no real idea as to what happened, it doesn't take Dean long to realize what he's missing after his first meeting with Zachariah. Finding Sam is the least of his worries as he soon learns that his brother didn't come out of that world unscathed & he must struggle to not only free Sam from a Psych ward but also bring his brother back to him when Sam's scattered memories make him reluctant to listen. *Angsty/furious/worried/big brother!Dean & Hurt/limp/angsty/confused!Sam.* Set in Season 4 right after 04x17-It's A Terrible Life._

**Warnings: **_I'll warn for language, mild violence(maybe not so much this chapter). Any serious issues and I'll post a warning as it goes._

**Spoilers: **_Maybe only for new viewers who haven't seen too much of the show._

**Tags: **_Maybe. It takes place right after the events in 04x17-It's A Terrible Life._

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own the boys or the show. Those rights belong to Kripke & the CW. This is written for fun and enjoyment._

**Author Note: **_I've been meaning to write something to show what happened after Dean's meeting with Zachariah in 'It's A Terrible Life' since it bothered me that it didn't show the brothers reunite. So this is one thing I've been considering. It began as a 1-shot but of course it's turned multi-chapter. Enjoy!_

**SPN SPN SPN SPN**

A dull ache pounding through his entire head reminded Dean Winchester of the time he'd been seventeen and drank way too much of his Father's stash of whiskey after a bad hunt.

"God, I feel like crap," he groaned, wincing as his own voice seemed to make his head want to explode more while hating even the thought of opening his eyes.

Halfway considering just keeping them closed, rolling over in whatever bed of whatever cheap motel he and Sam had found to…Sam.

A sudden thought pushed through Dean's aching mind and his green eyes popped open. "_Sonuvabitch_!" he said it between a groan and a harsh curse as bright sunlight shined through the windshield of the 1967 black Chevy Impala that was more often than not both home and wheels to Dean and his younger brother Sam.

Memories were scattered all over the place as Dean pushed out of the Impala, nearly falling as his legs seemed too weak to hold his 6' foot lean body. "What the hell?" he looked to see that the Impala appeared to be parked in some sort of parking garage next to a tiny piece of shit that Dean wouldn't have been caught dead in…even though those scattered memories were telling him otherwise.

Letting his arms bear the weight as he leaned on the hood, Dean fought to clear his head. He knew he and Sam…(where the hell was his brother?) had come to wherever the hell this was for a case but right then all Dean was sure of was he had no memory of the past twenty-four hours, he didn't know where he was and he did not know where Sam was.

The last problem was a huge issue for Dean since despite all the crap that had been happening to them or between them since his return from Hell he still loved his little brother and a cold fist in the pit of his stomach was just screaming that Sam was in some sort of trouble.

The pain seemed to be slowly evening off into something a bit more manageable so Dean decided to try to call Sam's phone only to grit his teeth when the damn thing just went straight to voicemail.

His brother almost never turned that damn phone off so it going straight to voicemail right now just tripled Dean's concern. "Damn it, Sammy."

The past few months since Dean's return had been nothing but strain and problems between the brothers. Sam swore he was fine, that he'd healed from the mess that damn Siren caused and from whatever the hell he did when he pulled both Dean and Castiel's asses out of the fire with Alastair.

Dean had his doubts but he buried them like he did his concern for his brother behind a wall of sarcasm or cold dismissal.

He didn't like Sam's involvement with Ruby or his willingness to use the damn powers being doused with Yellow Eyes blood as a baby gave him and it was those issues that had been able to allow the Siren to get into both of the heads.

A lot of bad stuff had been said on both ends and while Dean regretted what he'd said to Sam and knew his brother hadn't meant the stuff he'd said, the doubt and pain were still very livid in his heart.

Though right then he didn't care about Ruby, the powers, his own doubts about himself or anything else. His main concern was finding his brother and getting them the hell out of here but first he needed to figure out where he was, where he'd been and…

Sitting back inside the Impala, a business card stuck in the dashboard caught his eye and as he looked at the embossed card with the letterhead of '_Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc.,'_ those scattered memories began to gel and the more they did the madder Dean was becoming.

Looking over that the piece of shit Prius sitting next to his Impala, Dean's lips curled in a snarl. He and Sam had come to Ohio in search of a spirit. They'd checked into a motel outside of town and settled in for the night. That was when it all went wonky in Dean's opinion.

His next memory was like a bad dream or nightmare. He'd been some suit and tie type in charge of sales or marketing or something. He'd driven that damn Prius, didn't like rock music and ate crap that not even his healthy eating brother would've touched and Sammy…

His geeky little brother had still been a geek but only a tech geek in yellow but it had been Sam who began to see that something had been wrong…though Dean did promise himself to kill those Ghostfacer morons the next time they met.

He and Sam hadn't been brothers but when things went weird they still acted like a team and took out a ghost only for Dean to lose Sam in the confusion of meeting Castiel's boss face to bald son of a bitch's face and his opinion of Angels hadn't improved by meeting Zachariah.

The older, bald, fatter Angel in a suit gave Dean the same vibes that used car salesmen or con men did. He didn't like the Angel and didn't give a rat's ass about his destiny.

His destiny, as far as Dean was concerned, was finding his little brother, healing the rifts between them, drop kicking that demon bitch off the planet and keeping Lucifer locked up.

Right then he needed to find Sam and if that meant checking every motel in the area he would while silently hoping it wouldn't end up with him searching the hospitals too.

Dean checked his pockets for motel receipts and had found one that matched the dates in his head. Grunting that he'd at least found a place to start his search for Sam when he nearly jumped out of the car as his cellphone suddenly started blaring.

"_Sonuvabitch!"_ he rasped, hoping his heart went back into his chest from its place in this throat as he flipped the phone open then scowled at the unfamiliar number. "What?" he growled, voice dropping to the gruff and hard one he'd been hearing out of himself more than he liked these days.

"Are you Dean Winchester?" a hesitant male voice asked from the other end where a garble of other sounds could be heard, sounds that Dean knew well: a hospital.

Squeezing his eyes shut against the building pain between his eyes and the fear nagging him, he let out a shaky breath. "Depends on who you are," he returned, not willing to admit to anything until he knew more.

"Do you have a brother named Sam?" the man asked, clearly aware of the 'I'm not saying anything until I know more' game Dean was using.

The knot in Dean's stomach turned into a great big lump while his heart returned to his throat and the pounding in his head increased to a jackhammer. "6'4" guy with floppy hair, big feet, hazel eyes?" he was half-heartedly hoping the guy had the wrong person but knew in his gut where he needed to go.

"Well, since his pupils are so dilated it's hard to tell about his eye color but you nailed the rest of it," the man on the phone admitted with a clear frown in his voice. "He was found wandering in an alley. He stumbled out and was nearly hit by one of our ambulances. Is he on drugs?"

Fury passed over Dean but he pushed it down while starting the Impala. "No, he doesn't do drugs," he gritted, fingers tight on the wheel as he quickly drove out of the parking garage onto an early morning street. "What's the address?" he asked, not asking Sam's condition since he didn't feel like throwing his phone yet and knew he would if the guy pissed him off more.

Hearing a name and address rattled off, Dean snapped the phone shut before even thinking to get the guy's name then his thoughts were on his brother and how the hell he'd rip the lungs off that Angel if he had anything to do with Sam being hurt.

"Stupid freakin' Angels and their damn destiny crap," he muttered to himself, tossing a text off to Bobby after a moment of hesitation. "He's gonna be pissed."

Bobby Singer had been the saving grace in that mess with the Siren. Dean hated to think about what would've happened if the older man hadn't arrived when he had.

Lectures and bitching aside, Dean could already hear Bobby screaming about this latest mess but he knew he'd need help with Sam if the kid was hurt too bad or worse…if his head hadn't totally cleared yet of that other life Zachariah had created.

Dean's memories were beginning to fade but what he did recall made him mad. Having his own life screwed with again just to prove a point was one thing but no one screwed with his little brother, no one tried to take Sam out of his life or try to treat him like canon fodder and expect not to piss Dean off.

Swearing as he nearly missed the hospital, Dean winced as he heard the Impala's tires scream in protest to the tight turn he forced from her then quickly found a parking spot not too far in case he needed to grab Sam and bolt.

Since the man on the phone had used his real name, Dean didn't bother grabbing any one of the number of fake IDs that he could've and just wondered how many of those Sam had on him when they got him here.

"Shit, I hate hospitals," he scowled the moment he stepped through the main doors to smell the same antiseptic odor that all hospitals seemed to carry.

Too many memories of hospitals came to Dean as he stalked down the hall in search of a desk or a way to find his brother.

His Dad and brother had been in hospitals too many times while Dean refused to think of the times he'd been admitted to one or the few times he nearly didn't come back out. It was those times that he knew would make Sam even more uneasy about being in a hospital.

Catching sight of a nurse's station, he made himself calm down and tried to keep his tone level even when his first instinct was to snap demands.

"I got a call that my brother was here," he spoke to the first nurse who noticed him. "His name's Sam…Winchester," he prayed that was the last name Sam used or the ID he had and felt some relief when the woman, a matronly looking older woman, nodded briskly. Then his relief left at her next words.

"Yes, Doctor Webster had him moved to the Psych floor," she reported after checking the computer, looking up and obviously recognized Dean's expression. "He's a very sick young man, son."

Forcing himself to swallow the lump that wanted to stick in his throat, Dean managed a nod then got the floor number and was told the doctor in charge of his brother would meet him at the elevator when he got up there.

Keeping his face calm, Dean waited until the elevator doors slid closed to allow the first cracks to show. Leaning against the back wall, he kept hearing the nurse report that his brother had been put on the psych floor and was sick.

Those two things brought very different emotions out in the elder Winchester. Fear and concern for just what the hell had happened to Sam when they'd finally been separated in that other reality and the more logical concern that Sam being on a locked down floor would make it even harder to get his brother out of here.

Hospitals, ERs, clinics, intensive care wards were things Dean knew how to handle. He knew how to handle the staff so they didn't get too curious about wounds. He'd learned how to work the system so most times he could get himself or Sam released AMA.

He'd been confident that he could do that here as well…until he learned the doctor moved Sammy to a floor for mental patients. Then he realized he needed to be a lot more convincing because if there was one thing Dean was positive about even as the elevator was stopping on the fifth floor…he was not leaving his little brother locked in this place.

'Here we go,' he told himself, steeling himself for the worst but was not expecting what he got the moment the doors opened.

"Mr…Winchester?" a rather tall doctor in his middle forties with graying black hair was waiting for Dean but quickly held up a hand as if to ward off the now furious younger man. "Wait, let me…"

"What. The. Hell. Is. Wrong. With. My. Brother?" he ground out very distinctly, the vein in his forehead and the muscle in his jaw twitching like they usually did when Dean was beyond rage and at the sound of his little brother screaming and shouting from somewhere in the midst of closed steel doors he'd gone beyond that and was closing in on the urge to kill. "What did you do to him?"

Not the littlest bit intimidated by the now snarling young man in the battered leather jacket, Doctor Sean Webster held his ground while explaining the situation as efficiently as he could in a short amount of time since he had a feeling he wouldn't have long before his patient's brother either went for his throat or went for the source of the screaming.

"As I told you on the phone, Sam was brought in after nearly being hit by one of our ambulances. He was dazed, clearly injured physically so we suspected he was jumped in the alley, and by the way he was talking when he'd come around it was assumed he was also stoned but…" the doctor sighed as a fist clenched in his white jacket.

"I told you, Sam does not use drugs," Dean resisted the urge to hurt as his heart ached at just hearing the tone in his clearly frightened and confused brother's now hoarse voice.

Nodding in agreement, Webster carefully dislodged the fingers and silently wondered just how soon that fist would be used in violence. "Which is what the blood tests also showed," he replied, motioning two interns away who had started to come closer. "I'll take you to him and explain.

"Physically, Sam is hurt but nothing that won't heal though he has a few wounds that were infected. He has a couple cracked ribs and a slight concussion which could be a part of his confusion," the doctor watched Dean carefully as he led him down the hall to a more isolated room. "He goes from calm and almost coherent to fighting like a madman, screaming for his brother…for you…to not hate him for something. Then there was his confusion over his name.

"When he first woke up he said his name was Sam Wesson, said he worked as a computer technician at some place I've never heard of then he began fighting someone or something, he shouted as if whatever it was really was hurting him then the next moment he was gasping for breath but seemed more lucid," Dr. Webster laid a hand on Dean's arm and felt it tense as he went on grimly.

"That time he was able to say his name was Sam Winchester, which matched his license. He told me, rather he begged me to call you so he repeated your name and cell number even though he couldn't even tell me his date of birth but told me your date of birth…and that you were four years older and four inches shorter," the medic didn't bother to hide his amusement when Dean closed his eyes and muttered a promise to make Sam pay for that.

Trying to both pay attention to the doctor and wonder how he'd handle this, Dean finally made himself focus past his basic older brother instincts when all of those just wanted to kick in the damn door separating him from his clearly upset kid brother and fix all of this crap.

It took a lot for the more logical side of his brain, the side John Winchester trained to be calm in the face of danger or trouble, to take over to face the doctor who seemed to be waiting for a response. "How…bad is he?" he asked tightly, making the fist that had curled inside the pocket of his jacket to uncurl. "Why lock him in…is he…is this permanent?"

Wanting to ask if Sam was a danger to others was out since Dean knew better than the doctor just how deadly his brother could be and that was when Sam was thinking right. If he was scared and confused, he'd be lethal without even meaning to be.

"I…don't know, Mr. Winchester," Webster admitted with a grim sigh, looking between the door to Dean. "I'm hoping if he sees you that he'll calm down and maybe in a day or two whatever caused the shock to his system will allow his mind to revert to normal but until then…I'm afraid he'll have to stay here."

"Yeah, well, that ain't gonna work, Doc," Dean sighed, knowing he needed to get Sam out of this place before his brother babbled off about something that got them both locked away something a little more severe since as Dean knew well when Sam was sick or confused he tended to get mouthy. "Can…can I see him?"

Knowing it was usually against hospital protocols to allow family in to see a patient, Webster had a feeling that not letting this young man in would be worse for everyone than any possible flak he'd get from his bosses.

"You can," he acknowledged, looking back up the hall before making a choice. "While I was cleaning a wound on Sam's shoulder I couldn't help but notice his tattoo," he also didn't miss the way his patient's brother tensed and knew he was on the right track. "It's…interesting."

Wanting to just see Sam, gauge what he was dealing with before choosing how best to try to get him out of here, Dean really didn't feel like coming up with an explanation for the tattoo they both had since he sure as hell didn't plan on telling the man what it really was.

"Yeah, Sammy got drunk one night and came home with it," he hedged, nerves on fire as Sam began shouting again and his cries tore at Dean's heart only seconds before that heart dropped to his shoes.

"I saw one like it in a book once," Webster made certain to meet and hold the now more suspicious gaze of this young man. "I did my internship in a small town in Minnesota and often volunteered on weekends at a shelter. A man who came there to hold Sunday services every other weekend had a book he dropped once and I asked him about it and after I bugged Jim for months he finally told me that it was an anti-possession tattoo."

Debating on banging his head in or screaming in frustration, Dean gave in to silently offering Jim Murphy a few choice words before offering the doctor a bland look. "You're better off not knowing too much, Doc," he advised, nodding to the door. "Can I see my brother or not?"

Unlocking the door, Webster hesitated before moving aside. "He's…not going to look good," he warned, knowing that would be an understatement and also knowing what the next reaction from Dean would more than likely be. "I'm…sorry."

"What? Sorry for what?" Dean tried to look at the doctor when his gaze instantly shot inside the room he stepped into the moment he could.

A quick look at the padded walls froze him but it was what he saw next when he looked for the near sobbing voice that immediately had his brain going numb, his heart stopping, and his head starting to pound again.

"Sammy?" he whispered, feeling true and honest fear and near horror at what he saw upon laying eyes on his younger brother. "_Sonuvabitch…"_

**TBC**

**A/NII: **_Yep, another evil cliffey. Update soon._


	2. Chapter 2

**Mr. Smith Goes Home**

**Chapter Two**

It took Dean all of seven seconds to work through his full range of emotions to finally find his ability to speak or react. His next move resulted in him whirling to grab the grim faced physician by the throat, kick the door closed while shoving the man back against the wall with his arm against his throat.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded, his voice no longer calm, no longer cordial. Now Dean's tone had dropped into the low, harsh, nearly guttural one that only surfaced when he was truly pissed off and looking to kill. "You said it yourself that Sam's hurt! He's hurt, confused, scared and _this _is how you treat him?"

Doctor Webster wasn't shocked by this reaction. He'd known just by a few things his young patient had shouted then mumbled when asking for his brother that the calm façade Dean had showed would shatter the very first moment of seeing Sam.

Now he just had to hope he could keep the boy from killing him before he could explain the reason for the extreme course of action as he glanced over Dean's shoulder toward the far corner of the padded room.

"He put three interns in the ER, son," he tried to use reason but knew that was not going to work in this case and so just went with the truth. "Normally we don't use this extreme a method of restraint anymore but after your brother broke the restraints on two beds and began shouting about demons and angels this was the only alternative other than drugs…and I didn't think using those would be wise. I was hoping once you arrived that he'd calm down."

His fury still huge it took Dean several more moments before reason or rational thought came back. Then he slowly stepped back with a final glare at the medic before turning to give a much closer look at what set him off.

Dean hadn't been expecting his brother to be in great shape just by what he'd been told but he hadn't been expecting what he found.

Between them he and Sam had seen, battled, fought against, and dealt with a lot of crap both as kids growing up with a man obsessed with the supernatural then as adults.

Both of them had been through situations that had nearly destroyed them but as Dean took in his little brother trying to struggle against something he either could see or just what his memories were showing him but unable to since he'd been restrained in a way that clearly told Dean that his brother would've needed to have been unconscious for anyone to have been able to do that to him.

Sam was lying on the padded floor, trying to get as close to the back wall as possible while still fighting both his mind and the heavy canvas straightjacket that trapped him.

Gritting his teeth, one look at the contraption told Dean that it wasn't a standard restraint used for mild mental patients. This one seemed more like a modern torture suit.

A thing appeared normal until one noticed that Sam's long arms weren't wrapped around him like a standard straightjacket would have used. This one forced his brother's arms to be wrapped and trapped behind him which would have caused even more pain as he struggled to get free.

As Dean got closer he also saw the heavy chains hooked to the jacket that went down to hook to the ones that were pinning Sam's ankles together then the chain had pulled the younger man's ankles up so his legs had been pulled up behind him and locked so that he couldn't unfold.

Fighting not to snarl, Dean thought he'd gained better control of his straining emotions until he got close enough to where his brother laid with his face toward the wall to suddenly understand why Sam's voice seemed so muffled and why his screams of pain, confusion and frustration weren't words but nearly indecipherable sobs.

Both hands fisted then he hit his knees next to Sam, being careful when he reached out to touch his fighting brother. "Sam…Sammy," he called softly at first then all sense of caution fled as the more familiar lightning fast big brother reaction washed over him. "Sammy!"

Sam jerked at the touch of hands and tried to avoid it but was trapped with the way he was tied. Wanting to shout for his brother, his voice choked off from being hoarse and from the hard bit that had been put in his mouth to muffle the sounds form the room.

"_Sonuvabitch_," Dean swore under his breath, shooting a dark look back at Webster who had chosen to stay in the room despite the threat of violence. "He didn't need this!" he snapped, refocusing his full attention on Sam as he now tried to ease his brother away from the wall enough that he could kneel in front of him, trying to see Sam's face.

Sam's face had bruises that Dean couldn't be certain if they'd been caused before he was brought to the hospital or after. What he did see though that instantly made him heart ache were the tear tracks on Sam's face as he tried to get free of the jacket and chains that trapped him, as he fought against the things that were making him try to scream despite being unable to.

Dean knew his brother hated to be restrained in any way. Sam had been hurt too often growing up and as a hunter to allow restraints and being trapped this way, being tied with both his arms and legs held in such a way would bring back memories that Dean had never wanted his brother to think of again much less feel.

His first reaction was the urge to get Sam free and then cope with the rest but again that annoying more rational side stuck its nose in by reminding Dean that he needed to at least get Sam to look at him, to reassure himself that his little brother would at least be a little calm because in this state Sam would react violently the moment he was free…assuming he hadn't suffered more physically just by the way his arms were tied.

"How long has he been in this shit?" he demanded harshly at the doctor but his attention toward Sam was slow and reassuring as to not frighten the kid more than he clearly would be.

"From the time it was decided he needed to be moved to when I got a hold of you…probably four hours or so," Webster had fought against the use of this form of restraint but had been overruled by the Senior ER chief who deemed Sam a threat to himself and the staff. "I can get the keys but…"

"I don't need the keys, Doc," Dean shot back, jerking his battered leather jacket off to lay it beside him as he carefully caught Sam's face in both hands to try to catch his eyes when he noticed how wide his brother's pupils were and blew out a breath. "Hey, Sammy?" he dropped his tone back to the one he only seemed to use on his brother when Sam was sick or scared and hoped it was still recognized. "Sammy, look at me. It's Dean…"

Jerking again at both the touch to his face and the sudden voice, Sam's eyes tried to focus on the suddenly familiar voice but still saw himself as someone else and at first when he finally saw who was trying to talk to him he tried to pulled back, seeing both the man he'd seen in that other place then seeing something else, something that scared him.

"Hey, little brother…stop," Dean hated the fear he could see in Sam's too huge eyes right then but it was the muffled sobs that finally tore his restraint to shreds and he knew he couldn't…wouldn't wait any longer to get his brother free. "Sammy, listen to me. I'm getting you loose so try to stay still until I get some of these chains and straps free, okay?"

Not trusting the quiet soothing voice speaking to him, Sam again tried to pull back but nearly gagged as the one chain holding his ankles pulled the one hooked to the collar of the jacket and only strong hands gripping his face again kept him from choking.

"Sammy!" Dean snapped but didn't miss the way his own voice seemed to break as fear nearly consumed him when he realized the extent his brother had been restrained. "Hang on, kid," he urged, taking one quick look to be sure it wasn't hooked to the jacket in any way, he quickly disposed of the gag to at least allow Sam to breathe through his mouth and bit his lip at the first thing he heard.

"… … don' hurt…"

Needing to look away for a second until he could be sure his face didn't reveal his own emotions, Dean shook his head when he could finally meet his brother's eyes again while giving a shaky smile. "No. I'm not gonna hurt you, Sammy," he promised tightly, keeping a hand on Sam's face while he moved the other to his jacket and to the lock picking set both he and Sam always carried. "No one's going to hurt you, little brother."

Suddenly tired from fighting, Sam seemed to go limp as the man beside him kept talking in a low soothing voice that somewhere deep inside Sam recognized when his wide, bruised and bloodshot eyes suddenly caught sight of something and his waning attention locked onto it.

Debating on how to reach the locks hooking the chains that needed to come off first, Dean had started to move when Sam made a protesting sound and he looked to see that his brother's eyes seemed to be staring at something when it hit Dean what had drawn Sam's focus.

"You see the amulet, don't you, Sammy?" he asked calmly, seeing Sam's gaze move as the small gold amulet Dean wore swung as he moved to reach over Sam to try to pick the lock since he hadn't wanted to attract any more attention if Webster had gone for the keys. "Remember when you gave it to me? The Christmas you were eight and Dad didn't come back, I screwed up royally by stealing girlie gifts and you found out the truth?"

Standing back by the door, Dr. Webster watched as Dean talked to his younger brother in a tone that he didn't think the older brother capable of using from what he'd seen of his temper.

He was about to offer again to go get the keys when he seen Dean use a small pick of some sort with one hand to begin moving in the keyhole of the lock. "Um, those can't be picked," he commented then felt a small frown form when he heard a soft click and received a smart ass smirk. "Usually."

"Any lock can be picked, Doc," Dean returned but without his usual sarcasm because even as he threw the lock across the room he was still trying to keep Sam calm so he wouldn't fight him as he removed the heavy chains binding his brother's ankles. "Sam, just a little longer," he promised, slightly surprised when Sam stayed still until he saw that he was still watching the amulet.

Watching the amulet move in an almost lulling motion, Sam watched it and only got distracted by the needles that seemed to shoot through his burning leg muscles after they were freed and he felt them stretching out. "No," he instinctively pulled them up in front of him as if trying to protect himself and then tried to twist his arms only to nearly panic again when he couldn't and the restraint seemed to tighten as he fought. "…De'n…"

Relieved at hearing his name whispered in even a shortened form, Dean smiled to reassure Sam that he was safe before he took a better look at the back of the jacket and decided that he'd seen less cruel and complicated things during his time in Hell.

Carding fingers he hoped weren't shaking back through Sam's sweat soaked hair in the hopes of keeping his brother calm a little while longer and didn't miss a few sticky spots he knew without looking were blood. "Just a few more of these damn hooks, kiddo," he reassured Sam, feeling the jacket begin to loosen and felt the way his brother tensed.

"Sammy, I need you not to move until I get this all the way off and I get the circulation back in your arms," Dean knew after having his arms trapped in the damn straightjacket for so many hours that the risk of additional physical damage to Sam was high. "I know you're scared. I know you're confused but I need you to watch the amulet and trust me."

A piece of Sam wanted to, he knew the voice, knew the feel of the hands that were trying to free him but the other piece, the piece that had been screaming at him since he opened his eyes in some alley wanted to fight, to get away from being hurt.

It was the tiny gold amulet that once again seemed to calm him down as he stayed as still as possible on the padded floor, surprised when he didn't jerk at the touch of fingers in his hair.

Realizing that Sam was calm so long as he could see the amulet, Dean strained to stay as close to his brother as he could while still giving him space since given Sam's state of mind and what he figured his brother would be feeling after being restrained in such a way.

"Hang on," he swore as he needed to lean over Sam more and heard the soft cry as his amulet moved out of Sam's line of sight but blew out a breath when he felt the final strap come loose from the back then hesitated briefly on the last strap he needed to free before removing the damn thing from his brother.

"Dean?" Dr. Webster had seen the way Dean's jaw was clenching at undoing the strap that was standard on every type of jacket of this nature since the crotch strap kept patients from managing to pull the jacket up over their heads if they managed to free their arms. "Do you want me to…?"

Snapping a look that could've killed a man if such a thing were possible, Dean's green eyes which had been gentle as he dealt with his younger brother were now flashing with a fury that only an older brother could have and the doctor took that as a sign to stay far away from them.

"…wha? No! Don't…touch…" Sam's body went rigid the moment he felt the touch on his leg, the movement of the last strap and instinct made him try to kick but gasped as that made his tight leg muscles burn and hurt even more and he realized he was still helpless when he heard the same voice talking to him, trying to reassure him that it was only to get rid of the final strap.

Despite being confused, tired, in pain and fighting a riot of memories in his head that he couldn't tell which were his and which weren't, Sam knew he hated waking up tied like he was. The moment he recognized the straight jacket and felt it binding him he'd panicked.

The thing itself, the straps, the way it held his arms trapped behind him rather than in front along with how tight it had been tied had caused images of other times to flash in his already confused mind.

Times when he'd been much younger or more recent times that he seemed to know but yet they still didn't look real to him as those other damn images wanted to intercede.

"Easy, baby brother, I've almost got this goddamn thing...there!" Dean was able to loosen the jacket enough so he could carefully free Sam's arms from where they'd been bound behind his back and with a jerk the jacket came free and was hurled away with a harsh oath.

Dean's next move was to keep one hand on Sam's now shaking shoulder while he more gently tried to rub Sam's arms near the elbow where he knew the blood would've settled by the way they'd been strapped.

Feeling the younger hunter begin to shake, he wasn't sure if it was because of the pain in his arms and shoulder or if it was from being touched by someone who his mind might not be fully recognizing yet.

Recalling another time he'd felt Sam shake like this made Dean's teeth clench because while he could try to shield and protect his brother from demons or ghosts, protecting him from the real world crazies was often harder.

"…hurts," Sam hissed, clenching his teeth against the pain and against the tears that were clouding his already blurry vision as he still tried to focus on the amulet and what it should mean to him. "God…it…hurts so…De'n, make it stop."

"It'll stop in a minute, Sam," Dean hoped he was right, feeling relief when he finally felt the tension in Sam's elbows relax enough that he could move them out straight then took a chance. "Can you try to sit up a little?" he asked, hearing a sharp breath behind him but ignoring the doctor for the moment to give his full attention to his brother. "We need to get you sitting up to see if anything's been dislocated or…Sam!"

Dean had been going to move back a little to help his brother sit up. He'd been worried that after being tied like he had been for over four hours if Sam would be able to move at all and had just been reaching to offer a hand when Sam moved on his own and not in a way that Dean had been expecting right then.

As soon as he felt his arms were free, Sam was struggling to move on his own. He wanted up off this damn padded floor but had his doubts if he was strong enough for that yet and so settled on something else that just popped into his panicked brain.

Seeing the amulet he'd been watching swing free as Dean moved to place a hand on his arm to help him sit up Sam moved with a speed that surprised both Dean and Webster when Sam's one hand shot up to grab onto the amulet with a vice-like grip while his other arm reached out to try to latch into his brother with a sudden desperation that he couldn't fully understand yet.

"De'n!" he knew the name but had two very different memories vying for control of it. Sam just knew he was safe with him and even though he thought he should feel weird about grabbing onto Dean he didn't. He just knew this wouldn't be the first time.

"Hey! Sam…Sammy," Dean had at first feared Sam would try to fight or escape before he could get a handle on the situation more but as soon as he felt his brother's shaking fingers reaching for the amulet to hold he knew what Sam's next move would be and bent just enough that Sam was able to use his other arm to wrap it around Dean's shoulders like he would when he'd been a child and running from a nightmare.

"You're okay, Sammy," he promised quietly, knowing that was probably a lie since he could tell by the way Sam was shaking and how weak his grasp was that his brother was far from alright but needing to be at least show more confidence than he felt. "I'm here and I'm not going to leave you again."

Dr. Webster watched the brothers for a long moment without speaking. He'd had his doubts if Dean could even get through to the younger boy and while he suspected that Dean knew his brother was far from well he was still willing to pretend, if only to keep him calm.

"Dean?" he finally chose to speak and didn't miss the way Sam's body went rigid at his unexpected and unknown voice.

Nor did he miss the way Dean's body seemed to automatically shift more to one side so he was more in front of his clearly confused sibling.

"He's a doctor, Sam," Dean murmured after feeling his brother's fingers dig into his chest while still clutching the amulet, not shocked when that news didn't seem to relax Sam any and so resorted to his age old way of calming Sam down when nothing else worked…bribery. "Ease off, relax and let me handle him and you can hold the amulet without throttling me."

Sam's eyes were still too huge for either the Doctor or Dean's liking but after a quick mistrustful look over Dean's shoulder, he finally gave a quick one shouldered shrug which Dean took to be as close to agreement as he was going to get right then.

As he eased back, taking the amulet off to give it to his suddenly very grabby little brother to hold onto for the moment, Dean's gaze quickly took in the mottled bruises that littered Sam's bare chest and arms while wondering what he'd see on if back.

"Put this on until I get you something else," he urged, wrapping his jacket around his brother and not the least surprised this time when Sam's fingers curled into the leather since both the amulet and the jacket had always been items of security for his brother at times of injury or illness.

Eyes sharp and watchful as Dean waited until Sam had struggled into the jacket fully then backed up until he hit the corner as if wanting something at his back. "I'm not leaving or going more than three steps from you, Sammy," he promised, getting a mumbled reply and feeling something like dread beginning to creep into his stomach. "So…what's up now, Doc?" he asked, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep them from either fidgeting or fisting.

"You know he's not…well," Webster hedged, not needing to set Dean off since he had a feeling his calm appearance was all that was keeping Sam calm right then.

"I've known him all his life. I know more about that kid than he knows about himself at times," Dean rolled his eyes in a manner that was too much like Sam's own similar gestures. "I know he's not all the way in his own head yet. I also know he's got bruises and wounds that had better have come before he was brought in here cause the second I even suspect someone here put their hands on my brother…someone dies," he warned in a low, dark tone that left the meaning clear.

The doctor had no doubt that the young men would do just as he threatened which was another reason he was about to take this next step. "I can probably find some better clothes for him and…help you sneak him out since there's no way the higher ups will even let you sign him out AMA without a full mental evaluation," he stated, sighing. "Dean, that boy needs more help than I think you can give him but I also know what he needs, he won't get here so take him and my God help you both."

"Huh, I could do with a little less help in that area since it's that direction that got Sammy hurt like this," Dean returned, looking back to see that Sam's eyes had drifted closed but he'd drawn his legs up to hug them while clinging to the amulet like a lifeline. "How long do I have or what do I need to do?" he asked, debating on trusting the man when he realized he had little choice at the moment.

"Give me about ten minutes to at least fake an order to move him then I'll work on explaining it further when or if anyone asks," Webster decided, looking at the door then at Dean. "I had him put in this room since for some reason I thought being close to the emergency exit would be a good idea. Now I guess I know why. Where are you parked?"

Recalling his parking spot, Dean's smirk felt more relaxed. "First spot next to an alley where some trash dumpsters are sitting…and I figure the side door comes out," he replied, wondering if he was actually catching a break in something today as he added. "I'll handle the clothes, just help me get him into the stairwell and we'll be fine."

"He's…" Webster wondered how to phrase this delicately. "Sam's a little taller and seems to be built slightly more than you, son," he coughed, seeing the way Dean's eyes narrowed at the height reminder. "He's weak and may be off balance so can you…"

Dean could remember the days when he'd just been able to scoop his little brother up and toss him in the Impala or easily lift him if he'd been hurt.

Since the four months he'd been in Hell, his little brother had put on more muscle that, in addition to the height difference, made it difficult to move him easily, especially if he was off balance.

"He's not heavy, Doc. He's still my little brother," he shrugged as if he'd lugged his Sasquatch-size brother down five flights of stairs in a hospital in the hopes of sneaking him out every day. "Just buy me the time."

"I'll be back with what he came in with," Webster nodded, easing out of the door with a look behind him and this time caught just a quick appearance of the true concern Dean Winchester was feeling.

Hearing the door click, Dean's stoic expression slipped for just a second as he considered the odds of them getting out of this place without being caught and then of him actually dealing with Sam in whatever shape he was in.

Rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes, he slowly took a deep breath before letting it out then approached his brother to crouch down and look at him.

Since coming back and all the issues with the Angels began happening, then the stress between him and Sam it had been a long time since Dean could honestly say he'd seen his brother look this young or nearly helpless since when Sam was sick or hurt to a certain point his shields drop and he doesn't try to be as tough as he always thought he needed to show.

"No…won't…go…De'n…umm, not to weird," Sam's voice was a soft mumble as he seemed to be talking to himself while his fingers twisted around the amulet while his other hand was trying to reach for something on the soft floor. "This…isn't real. I…know…who I am."

"I hope to hell you do, Sammy," Dean whispered, reaching out to touch Sam when he was quick to grab the previously grasping wrist before it could connect with his throat. "Hey! Sammy, it's me. It's Dean," he wondered what that meant to his brother right then and really didn't think he was prepared to know.

The sharp warning voice along with the firm but not rough hand that gripped his wrist caused Sam's eyes to snap back open to blink owlishly a couple times before it seemed he really saw Dean and nodded. "Umm, sorry," he mumbled, ducking his head as if not wanting to meet the other set of eyes. "We…need to get outta here…'fore…they come…back."

"Before who comes back, Sam?" Dean asked cautiously, not sure if this was something real or made up from whatever Zachariah's little trip did to Sam. "Sammy, before who comes back? Tell me so I know what to look for."

Blinking at Dean much like he would when too tired or at the start of a real bitch face if his brother didn't pick up on what he was saying quickly, Sam finally dropped his head or tried to if a gentle hand hadn't lifted it back up so his eyes would meet Dean's then he gave a small shrug.

"…don' matter. They won't hurt you…they need you," Sam muttered, blinking more as his memories began to jumble again and he struggled not to curl up as a sudden pain burned in his arm. "It's me they…hurt. That's okay…"

"No, that is so not okay, kid," Dean returned lowly, not liking his brother's words or how he kept dropping letters and when he actually watched the Sam's eyes go from wide in shock to no color at all as if his mind was fighting him that sick feeling that he'd been having got worse. "No one's gonna hurt you again, Sam," he promised again then stood quickly as the door opened.

Sean Webster hurried in with a plastic bag and some paperwork. "This is all he had on him and this will clear it if you get stopped or anything," he handed Dean both then looked at Sam. "Can you do this?"

"I have a friend coming to help me," at least Dean hoped Bobby was on his way since he had a hunch he'd need him before this was over. "Will you be alright? I mean, this will have to cause you trouble."

"I took an oath to help people, son. If I didn't do this then I'd be breaking that oath," Webster shrugged, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. "I'll get the nurse into another room. I can give you about five or six minutes to get into the stairs then you're on your own."

Weighing Sam's condition and the distance to the emergency exit he'd seen, Dean figured he could handle that. "We've been on our own for a long time, Doc," he assured the man, shaking the ended hand before leaning down to grip Sam's arm. "On your feet, Sammy. We've gotta go."

Feeling the brief urge to resist, Sam didn't and let Dean haul him up then gritted his teeth against the pain as his tight and torn muscles wanted to rebel against standing much less moving. "Can't…hurts," he gasped, starting to fall only to feel Dean's shift instantly to catch and support him. "Not…the office."

"No, we're in a hospital that wants to lock you up if I don't get you loose," Dean decided to try to support Sam by placing one of Sam's arms around his neck and shoulders in the hopes that his brother could walk that way but after only three steps he felt him start to drop and knew he needed Plan B. "Well, this won't be fun."

Shoving the paperwork into the bag, he slid the handles onto his arm so it would stay secure as he gave another long look to his taller younger brother before blowing out a breath. "You are so going to owe me for this, Sam," Dean decided.

Bending slightly to shift his slightly heavier than he remembered brother onto his shoulder in a classic fireman's carry, struggled briefly with the door then after a quick look at the empty hall made a staggered but quick move into the stairwell that would take them out of the hospital…he hoped.

Sam had gone rigid at this move but something told him not to fight and he closed his eyes when he felt himself get dizzy at his current position. "You…okay?" he asked when Dean stopped to lean against a wall after three flights of stairs.

"Peachy," Dean muttered, fighting to breathe and also fighting his aching back but the thought of leaving his brother in this place gave him that extra boost of strength when he thought his own legs were going to give out. "When you're better, you're going back on that all green diet or something, kid."

Reaching the bottom, Dean once again struggled to open the last door and let out a sigh of honest relief when he saw that it did lead into the alley and he could see the shiny black of the Impala waiting just a few feet away. "Just a little farther," he said it to himself as well as Sam who had grown quiet and a part of Dean hoped his brother had fallen to sleep.

Hearing Sam mumble something made Dean frown as he managed to reach the Impala without being noticed. He nearly groaned out loud as his back wanted to weep after he eased Sam to his feet, leaning him against the Impala for support while he quickly dug for the keys to unlock the door.

"That better not be my car you're muttering about, Sammy," Dean growled, too tired to pay attention right then to Sam's question about the Prius. "Get your butt inside and stay put."

Sam looked around the inside of the car, noticing little things that both relaxed him and bothered him. Looking at the box of battered old cassette tapes made his head hurt as if something didn't want him to think too hard and he felt his fingers tighten on the amulet.

"We need to put some space between us and this place, Sammy," Dean decided after he'd climbed behind the wheel to start the Impala and fought not to break any speed limits away from the hospital while thinking what he should do. "Maybe find a motel a few towns over until Bobby gets here or…what?" he asked upon noticing Sam's eyes were watching him. "You in pain?"

"What? No…yes, but…where're we going?" he asked, suddenly confused and it showed in the way his voice softened and shook. "We…can't go to another town."

Feeling his fingers tighten on the wheel, Dean decided not to grit his teeth and was shocked that his voice actually sounded calm to when. "Okay, why can't we?" he demanded, motioning with one hand. "I just sort of kidnapped you out of a hospital, Sam."

"But…we…have work," Sam tried to understand even though his head was hurting so bad now he wanted to scream. "Y'know, your job…mine…even if it's just a…hey, what?"

His hand shot out to grip the one Sam was using to hold the amulet and Dean swore he could hear his own heart beating in his head. "Sam," he began slowly, much more slowly than he felt like right then. "Do…do you know who we are?" he asked almost hesitantly.

"Uh, yeah," Sam seemed to find that question odd and he found it odd that now that he was away from the hospital his jumble of memories seemed to be shooting at him from every direction but he was positive of at least one thing: he knew his name. "I'm Sam."

Dean released a breath of relief that maybe he was jumping to the wrong conclusions…until his brother spoke again.

"Sam Wesson."

His stomach dropped and he actually felt like screaming in rage and loss but Dean stayed focused on the road and just briefly let his head fall back to the seat with one word echoing in his mind until it finally burst free. "_Sonuvabitch_!"

**TBC**

**A/N: **_Hmmm, this doesn't look good for the boys. Stay tuned for Chapter Three._


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Smith Goes Home

Chapter Three

**Pikeville, West Virginia…18 Hours Later:**

"How in the goddamn hell did you two idjits end up in this mess?" Bobby Singer demanded while he watched Dean stalk the gravel and dirt pathway near the old hunting lodge. "I barely stopped you two from killing each other a few weeks ago, then I pulled a lot of favors to help get you outta a damn hospital after something nearly beat you into a bloody pulp…now your brother ain't got half a clue to who he is or you are."

Dean didn't need a reminder of that since he was still hearing Sam arguing with him over who he was and who Dean was for most of the trip from Ohio to Pikeville, West Virginia.

It had been a near desperate call to Bobby with this latest development that had the older hunter ordering Dean to head to the tiny rural village in the mountains where an old friend still had a hunting lodge that wasn't being used at the moment.

The older Winchester had hoped if his brother got more rest and once he began to relax that his normal memories would come back and they had…for all of twenty minutes. Those had also been the worst twenty minutes of Dean's recent life.

Sam had drifted off in the Impala which had given Dean the chance to call Bobby, listen to the growling lecture he need would be coming and try to get his thoughts back in order.

The sleep hadn't been restful which should've put Dean on alert but he admitted that he was tired and really hadn't expected anything until Sam jerked awake and a single look into his brother's way too huge and terrified eyes told Dean this wasn't good.

Sam had known his brother fully, had known himself or so Dean picked up right before his brother started shouting and struggling to get out of the moving car.

It had taken a quick move by Dean to both grab Sam by the back of his jeans while trying to slide the Impala off to the side of the road without wrecking and then it was all he could do to contain his brother who was doing everything he could to fight Dean's attempt to restrain him.

The pain in Sam's choked voice as well as his rushed jumble of words as he tried to both tell Dean what was wrong and shout at something only he could see to leave him alone had torn at Dean's heart as he tried to assure Sam that he was safe.

"He screamed that someone was hurting him or had hurt him and he needed to get away before they came back which is exactly what he said in the hospital," Dean sighed, not hearing Bobby's exact question as he tried to get the haunted look in Sam's eyes before he slipped under again out of his mind. "Begged me not to let them hurt him…then the next minute when he opened his eyes my Sammy was gone and the one from that other place was back."

Bobby was still trying to understand what had happened to the boys in the first place since dealing with Angels and all this crap seemed to be a bit above an average hunter's paygrade. "Why'd you come back alright and not Sam?" he wanted to know.

"No clue but I wish I knew if this was temporary or not," Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to push back the headache he still had. "I know Castiel said his bosses up top weren't happy with some of the things Sam's been doing but…he's still my brother, Bobby.

"Sammy's the one who prayed as a kid. He's the one who believed in all the stuff Pastor Jim preached. He believed in Angels, not me, so why in the hell is getting kicked like a puppy whose been bad when he's just trying to do good in his own way?" Dean didn't have to look to know he was getting one of Bobby's patented 'oh, really?' looks and he waved a disgusted hand. "Alright, I've been bitching at him for the same thing but that's different."

Looking back toward the cabin where he'd left Sam taking a shower or resting or something distracting so he could talk with Bobby who'd just arrived, Dean wished this would be a matter of just waiting it out but his gut was telling him that the longer he waited the harder it would be to get his brother back.

"So what this Angel want that he screwed with your heads, not to mention your reality?" Bobby asked, not missing Dean's actions and recognizing that the boy was upset a lot more than he was showing right then. "Trench coat boy not enough they need to send in upper management?"

Trying to think back on his meeting with Zachariah, Dean finally shrugged in disgust. "Basically the same crap," he replied. "Destiny made me to be a hunter and even when I thought I was this suit and tie type, shut up, that my basic instincts to hunt came back when that ghost showed up. Yeah, well it was Sam who picked it up first so why the hell is his head messed up and who hurt him?"

"How bad is the kid hurt?" Bobby hadn't seen Sam yet and had the hunch that he wouldn't be seeing him soon since he was picking up on Dean's big brother side being in full swing. "He letting you look?"

"I saw some in the hospital but he hasn't given me a chance to look since we got here," Dean didn't like that and doubted if he'd like it once he did get a look at whatever wounds his brother had. "The problem is, if he's been hurt as bad as he's letting on when he's back to semi-Sam lucid then I should be seeing a lot more than I am and…"

A sudden feeling in his gut left Dean think as he considered who could hurt his little brother to the point that it would terrify Sam as much as he seemed to be when Dean knew it took a lot of bad mojo to even bother Sam these days.

He'd seen Sam rip demons out of their hosts without batting an eye. He'd seen him take down a powerful demon with being afraid but the only thing he could honestly say that he'd seen Sam even blink at, or show a small amount of caution or nervousness with was…Angels.

Certain things that Castiel had said since their first meeting, things that douchebag Uriel had said in regards to Sam now made Dean think harder about his return and how Sam seemed to get whenever Castiel or any Angel seemed to make an appearance around them.

Sam used to get quiet to nearly withdrawn when he was scared or upset about something that he didn't want either Dean or their Dad to know about.

That reaction usually went hand in hand with Dean wanting to rip someone's lungs or heart out for messing with his brother but he hadn't seen Sam act like that since he'd gotten back from Hell except for shortly after that mess with the Siren.

"Sonuvabitch," he whispered, green eyes narrowing as he looked to the cabin then down at his own arm as if staring at something. "I need to get him to listen to me, Bobby. I need him to really hear me but that's going to be hard, ain't it?"

"You and he haven't been on the same page of a lot of talks lately," Bobby agreed, not liking to see this much strain between two boys he'd once seen so close. "I know what I walked in on that day at that motel wasn't all that damn Siren and I think you know that too."

Seeing the way Dean's shoulders tensed under the plaid overshirt he wore since he hadn't been able to budge either his jacket or amulet away from Sam even in his confused state, Bobby guessed the younger man also knew that.

"Sirens can claim control but they can't make up feelings that weren't there before," he went on grimly. "You hate that boy?"

"What?" Dean whirled to stare like Bobby had grown a second head, honest shock on his face at the question. "No, I don't hate Sam. I just…just wish he hadn't changed so much," he replied, adding in a softer voice. "I wish he was still my pain in the ass little brother…Hey!"

A sharp and not so gentle hand moved to slap him in the back of the head right before Bobby was literally in his face. "Sam is still your brother, Dean," he snapped, wondering what it would take to break the wall that seemed to just be getting bigger between the brothers. "How much have you changed?"

Normally when Dean was tired or stressed Bobby wouldn't have pushed but this time he felt he needed to try to get a point across to Dean before he even attempted to pull Sam's head back in order.

"I told you that Sam pretty much steered clear of me after what went down the night your deal came due and he did," Bobby grabbed for the retreating shoulder and held on even after seeing the heat flash in the younger man's eyes. "The last time I saw that boy he was sobbing his guts out over your grave cause he sure wouldn't let me help him.

"Sam did answer his phone a few times and every time he did all he'd say was that he was working to get better so that he could get you back. I didn't ask what he meant and maybe I didn't want to know but despite it all, despite all the bickering you two have been doing lately I'll tell you what I see that maybe you haven't let yourself see," pausing to be sure he had Dean's full attention, Bobby laid his other hand on Dean's other shoulder. "I still see the eyes of the same boy who used to follow after you from the moment he learned to walk.

"The night I got to the hospital you were in, you know where Sam was, Dean?" he asked, figuring the idjit didn't since he'd heard Dean bitching about it to Sam later on.

Fighting not to roll his eyes or blow out a resigned breath since he knew he'd get another slap in the head, Dean shook his head while fighting the bitterness he still felt. "Probably with Ruby since he sure as hell didn't come see me or…Hey! Damn it, Bobby!" he yelled when this time he got the slap right in the face and only long ago learned restraint had him not fighting back.

"No, you pig headed, stubborn jackass! Sam was down the hall puking his guts up," Bobby did see a change in Dean's eyes as he took this in but wasn't done yet. "When he was done he said he figured you wouldn't want him in the room and y'know, that the'e first time since you got back and he saw you that I seen tears of real pain in his eyes.

"You ask me, all this angel crap is just driving a huge wedge between you and your brother. I think that's what they want and if you let that happen, if you push that boy away then you are more like your Daddy than I ever thought you were," Bobby jerked a head toward the cabin. "Now, go check on your brother while I go find Fred and see about doing some fishing…unless you want me around."

Having to swallow a few times to get the sudden lump out of his throat at what he'd just been tossed, Dean slowly shook his head. "No…he won't know you yet and…it's better if I do this alone," he murmured, then thought of something. "Umm, this could get loud…and messy. Your pal the understanding type?"

"Fred'll just write it off and fix it again," Bobby had seen this man do just that before but didn't see the need to tell Dean that. "Just don't put each other through any walls…or windows cause I don't plan on stitchin' you up if you do."

"I wouldn't trust you with a needle in my skin right now, Bobby," Dean gave a small smile then took a deep but shaky breath before stepping up onto the front of the sturdy log cabin to give himself a final few moments to think.

He hadn't been expecting what Bobby had told him. When he'd woken up after the deal with Alastair had gone bad, it had hurt a lot that his little brother hadn't been there since they were almost always with each other if one or the other was hurt even a little.

Castiel had come with some sort of apology and then to tell Dean exactly what Sam had done with those powers he'd been warned against using.

His little brother, Cas had said, easily took the torture master from Hell down with hardly any trouble and once again Dean had been told how far down the dark path Sam had gotten and he needed dealt with before the Angels had to step in.

"Yeah, try that and we'll see just how crispy fried Angel wings look," Dean muttered, suddenly having a very good understanding of what was happening and probably what was happening with his brother. He just didn't know how to fix it yet.

Stepping into the cabin, he took a look around the big main room that he'd just tossed their duffels and stuff he thought he might need before heading up a short hall to the only bedroom which again made Dean wonder just how a hunting cabin could only have one bedroom then figured he might not want to know.

The whole cabin just seemed off to be a hunting lodge if Dean thought about it. Sure, the main room seemed to be right with a huge stone fireplace on one end wall and mounted animal heads scattered around. It had a small loft area slightly above the main room that could be gotten to with the attached ladder but then it went weird to his eyes.

The small kitchen had the basics: stove, small old time looking refrigerator, a few counters but the tiny little alcove held a small curved bench like table that would probably only sit two comfortably and he couldn't decide what the hell the other two side rooms were if they weren't bedrooms.

"Sam?" looking at the bed, Dean frowned when he didn't see his brother like he thought he would then his eyes moved to the still closed bathroom door with a sour feeling. "Hey, you fall down and drown, did you?"

Raising his voice to be heard through the heavy oak door, Dean waited five seconds for a reply before pounding on it with a closed fist then gritted his teeth to keep from swearing at the way his hand now throbbed. "Sam? Sammy?"

With no answer again, Dean's concern was now amping up to panic when he finally heard a soft voice tell him the door was open, causing him to roll his eyes while promising that he wouldn't slap his brother this soon.

"Yeah, well I sure as hell couldn't kick this thing down without breaking my foot," he remarked with what he hoped to Sam would sound like normal sarcasm as he stepped into the rather large looking bathroom and once again vowed not to ask Bobby what the hell kind of hunting cabin came equipped with what this one did. "How you doin'?"

Sam had thought a shower would help to ease the pain he still felt or let him relax but even the warm water coming out of the pulsating shower head hadn't given him any relief and the constant flashes of images and memories were both confusing and sickening.

He hadn't had the strength in his still sore legs to try for the bedroom yet so he'd pulled on a clean pair of jeans that Dean had laid out and just stayed sitting on the heated floor with his arms wrapped around his knees.

He'd tried to make sense of memories jabbing at his brain like white hot knives but couldn't make sense of it. Sam was positive of who he was even if he didn't always like it.

Sam Wesson was a computer technician at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., he was pretty much what everyone said he was…a geek and a nerd. He knew this just like he knew the man he was with was Dean Smith, the product manager.

Yet as he'd sat there to think he couldn't put the well-dressed man he worked with this guy since now Dean seemed more at home in worn out jeans, T-shirts and the leather jacket that Sam still kept close enough to touch.

The tiny gold amulet he'd latched onto also didn't seem like something the man he was remembering would wear but deep in his heart, deep where the other memories seemed to come, Sam knew this amulet was vital to them both…even if he couldn't see past the pain of other things.

Forgetting that Dean had entered, Sam nearly jumped out of his skin at the light touch on his shoulder and once again only a quick hand catching his wrist kept him from hurting Dean and he couldn't even tell himself why he knew how to do these things.

"Sorry…I shouldn't have…" Sam hissed when Dean's grip touched a strip of raw skin on his wrist that had just appeared after his shower. "Huh…got more of these after the shower than I had before," he mused, surprised when some of the pain eased. "Why?"

Silently reminding himself that he couldn't blame Sam for his defensive actions since he'd been the one who taught the kid most of them, Dean also caught sight of more wounds than he'd seen before and what he saw pissed him off.

"Let me look," he knelt down but held back the moment Sam tensed and familiar memories warned Dean to slow down or his brother would bolt. "Sam, you need these looked at."

Sam knew that but since he couldn't really understand how he'd gotten hurt he was hoping if he waited then the wounds would go away but he knew they wouldn't and knew Dean was worried. "What's happening?" he asked finally, giving up on pretending any longer. "Who am I really, Dean?"

The sudden sound of loss, of fear, of confusion in Sam's soft voice reminded Dean of when his brother had been younger and looking for reassurance after a bad hunt or a fight with their Dad.

Only this time Dean wasn't sure he had the right answers to give to either reassure his brother or help him and that scared Dean more than he had been since the night his deal came due.

Dean had seen the same fear in Sam's eyes as he was seeing now and hated that he couldn't wave a hand to make things right again. Right then all he could do was try to help and hope to fix this before his brother was gone for good.

"You're Sam Winchester and you're my bro…you're my little brother," he began carefully, kneeling down on the floor beside Sam while giving the warm floor an odd look before focusing on the matter at hand. "The memories you have as Sam Wesson were faked to separate us, make us not brothers but still try to prove a point to me."

Looking up finally, Sam's eyes weren't quite as large but they still had a glassy look that told he was in shock as well as exhausted. "Why…why would someone not want you to know you had a brother?" he blinked then shuddered as the memory of burning pain across his back took his by surprise and only when his fingers reached out to wrap around the familiar feeling leather jacket did it ease. "What's wrong with me?" he demanded. "Which memories are real? Why'd they do this?"

"I need to know who hurt you, Sam," Dean thought he knew and hoped he was wrong since that would put a whole different spin on things if the Angels wanted his help. "You keep saying 'they hurt you but won't hurt me' so…who do I get to rip the lungs from?"

The question brought back other times he thought he'd heard it and each time had been with that same deep tone that he seemed to know was Dean's pissed off one but he couldn't bring the memories up.

"I…don' know…" he looked away while trying to curl up tighter into himself only to have Dean's hand on his shoulder keep him still. "Please…it hurts if I try and…I…don't want you to…"

"You don't want me to what?" Dean demanded, feeling his brother shake suddenly and was forced to make a quick grab before Sam fell face first to the floor. "Sam! Sammy! What the hell?"

Not sure what happened, he moved to gently ease his brother to the floor while grabbing for the leather jacket to use as a pillow when he caught the thin line of blood running from Sam's mouth and felt his stomach do a dropkick.

"Sammy!" he yelled despite knowing he needed to be calm for Sam's sake but the sight of blood in addition to the numerous other bruises that had suddenly appeared on Sam's chest and arms was making any emotion but panic hard right then.

Not getting a response, Dean laid a hand over Sam's chest just to be sure his brother was breathing then placed his other hand on the side of Sam's neck as if to support it when his fingers felt something sticky on the back of his neck. "What the hell?" he demanded on the room in general while carefully lifting Sam's head just enough that he could see when he saw red, both literally and figuratively.

"_Sonuvabitch_," he gritted, fury and rage overshadowing all the good intentions of trying to be calm the moment he seen the bloody wound on the back of his little brother's neck and even through all the blood he could make it out enough to know what it was. "Castiel!" he shouted in full pissed off Dean Winchester voice, not giving a damn if the Angel could hear him or not. "Get your ass down here…**NOW**!"

Dean quickly forgot the trench coat wearing Angel that had gotten him out of Hell as he felt Sam's hand move to try to find his and on instinct Dean knew which version of his brother he had…for the moment at least. "Hey, you back with me, Geek boy?" he asked lightly, trying to sound normal but the shake in his usually steady voice gave away just how close to the edge he was. "Sam? C'mon, talk to me."

"…talk…be sick," Sam groaned, feeling like his head would explode but then he felt his stomach flip and knew the warning came too late. "Argh," eyes unable to see past the swimming haze of bright white that exploded the second he moved he had no idea where he was much less where the toilet was when he felt something nudge into his grasping hands only seconds before he threw up whatever had been on his stomach.

Knowing his brother came in handy since it gave Dean a good idea of what would happen in certain situations. Seeing the way Sam began trying to push himself up and look around quickly as well as when his brother's nearly white face began going green he knew Sam was getting sick.

Since the toilet was another odd looking thing to have in a hunting lodge, he kept one arm tight around Sam to keep him steady then reached back to grab a purple floral ceramic trashcan to place in front of his brother's hands only seconds before he was sick.

"Easy, Sammy," Dean made sure to keep his one arm around Sam's chest to make certain he didn't face plant to the floor again or worse into the trashcan as he managed a stretch to snag the still wet washcloth from the floor of the drop down tub/shower combo so he could wipe it over Sam's face when he figured the worst of this had passed. "Okay now?" he asked hopefully.

Dean didn't know how long he had Sam back for and was hoping he could get some details as to how to fix this mess before he lost him again and something about the thought of losing Sam even in this little way bothered the hell out of him.

Managing a weak nod, Sam didn't bother trying to move he just let himself fall backwards as if knowing his brother would be there to catch him and only tensed briefly when Dean's arm that had been around his chest had to tighten so they both didn't end up on the floor.

Sam listened to Dean muttering about heated floors, weird cabins, and little brothers as he tried to bring things into focus but his eyes just wouldn't cooperate and he found that just a tiny bit alarming when he finally felt himself being propped up against a wall that felt smooth like velvet as the arm that was still supporting him eased him over until he knew where his older brother's shoulder would be if it was needed.

"Sammy? Can you hear me?" Dean wasn't sure since his brother's eyes were closed but knew he was awake by the way his breathing was hitched and the fact that Sam's fingers with so tight around the amulet that his knuckles had gone white. "Sam, c'mon, talk to me or…hey, there, kiddo."

"He's…still there," Sam whispered, feeling his mind fighting him but struggling to hold on for his brother's sake. "De'n, why…how do I fight this?" he asked in confusion, managing to lift his head enough that he could see Dean and recognized both the exhaustion and his brother's worry in his face. "You…okay?"

The snort was automatic as was the near exasperated groan since this wouldn't be the first time Sam would be more concerned for Dean than himself. "Yeah, I'm fine, Sammy," he lied, not intending to tell Sam how worried he was. "I'm gonna make this right. I'll make you alright," he promised, not noticing when his voice dropped to the lower more gruff one he got when fighting emotions. "Just stay with me."

"Tired…too tired and it…hurts," he whispered, using his free hand to reach up to rub at his burning eyes like he would as a toddler and fighting sleep. "Wanna stay…but…if he comes…back then maybe…you'll…stay."

As Sam's words became more slurred and soft Dean's gaze sharpened when what his brother was saying finally sunk in. "You…think I'm leaving?" he stared down into glassy hazel eyes that Dean knew his brother couldn't see out of. "You think that if you were this other Sam, the one who is an even bigger geek than you are, that I'd stay? Sammy, who the hell told you I was leaving?" he demanded while hoping he was wrong.

"Don' know who…he was," Sam shut his eyes to rub them again before giving up and letting his head fall over to rest on the available shoulder. "Bald…used car sales guy…type. Had mean eyes but…said you'd leave cause…you hate me. That I was bad and…De'n? Tell me about Mom and Dad…again," he suddenly asked but in a tone that was raising Dean's panic level up several notches. "Before…they were married…before I…ruined it."

Swallowing hard at the honest pain of loss and self-hate he could hear in Sam, Dean stayed silent despite the urge to correct since he knew if he spoke right then his voice would be too hard, too rough, too sharp and Sam in this frame of mind always took that wrong.

So instead of speaking, instead of trying to see what Sam could possibly remember that may give Dean a clue to fixing this he simply shifted closer and like he was expecting felt his younger brother turn more toward him just as Sam would do when little and scared.

"You didn't ruin anything, Sam," he finally spoke, not caring if his voice was rough from emotion. He just wanted to try to take some of the fear away from Sam while also wondering just how in the Hell he'd gotten this notion swimming in his head. "I don't hate you and I am not leaving you. Hell, I can't leave of you'd douche my car up again."

At first he thought Sam might've fallen under again until he heard a soft sound that broke his heart. He could handle the usual spats between them.

They were brothers and as Dean reasoned brothers fought. He and Sam had been bickering pretty much from the minute his chubby baby brother grew up enough to decide he had opinions of his own…so from Dean's memory he and Sam had been fighting since Sam was probably…five.

The usual bickering, teasing, fighting or even the more intense ones that resulted in Sam giving him the bitch face silent treatment for a few hours didn't seem to bother Dean too much. He knew that the fights always went away because they were brothers and as he'd taught Sam, they'd always be that.

What did bother Dean however was when his always too emotional but these days more closed off little brother was hurt enough or felt scared enough to break into tears that he'd try to hide from Dean to avoid the usual 'no chick flick moments' speech.

That did bother Dean. So when he heard the first broken sob being buried and felt the way Sam turned his face more into his shoulder, feeling his brother's hand instinctively try to reach for something, he knew between his own after-Hell attitude change, to the fights over Ruby and Sam's weird powers, to all the Angel crap that Sam was hurt more than just physically.

Sam could always handle the physical wounds but it was the deeper emotional scars that tended to hang around longer, especially when those wounds were caused however inadvertently by his own brother.

It was those issues, the ones that truly made Sam upset like he was right then, that Dean couldn't overlook and knew he needed to fix it but first he needed to fix Sam fully but he had no idea how to do that. That left him feeling helpless; a feeling that Dean swore he'd never feel again.

"I don't know what you were told by that stupid, freakin' bald son of a bitch but right now you're listening to me, little brother," Dean's hand had moved to catch and grip Sam's, smiling tightly when he felt Sam return the hold as tight as he could right then as if Dean's hand was a lifeline to his reality and it some way it might have been.

"I know we've had problems since I got back. I know I've been on you really hard since learning about Ruby and what she taught you to do with those damn powers Yellow Eyes gave you and yeah, I know it looks like I'm shutting you out but…and this is the part I really need you to hear and try to understand, Sammy," Dean took a deep breath before going on. "You are my brother.

"You've been my brother since the second Mom and Dad first told me she was going to have you and while at that moment I didn't get how my soon to be baby brother had wound in Mom's stomach, you became the most important person to me," hoping the kid only remember the important parts of this admission, he went on quickly since he had a hunch by the way Sam was twitching that he was losing him again.

"I don't like what you've been doing, I don't trust Ruby with you, and I'm trying to keep my head above water with coping with what happened in Hell without telling you too much because all that faith, that confidence you've had in me since you were four would evaporate in a heartbeat if you learned too much of what happened to me or what I did in Hell.

"That said, no matter any of that, no matter the fights we have or what's happened between us like after the mess with the Siren and the things we both said, the one thing that will never change for me…is you," carefully, Dean moved so he could see Sam's face and gritted his teeth at the new bruises that had appeared on his already pale face.

"No matter what, we will_ always_ be brothers. No matter what Heaven says or anything else, you will always be _my_ little brother and I will fight to get you back. I will make this right, Sammy," he swore, forcing a smile Dean shook Sam's face lightly. "Trust me, little brother?"

Battling both the pain in his body that had started again and the rush of memories pushing in his mind, Sam had heard every word his brother spoke but it was more the depth of the true emotion he could hear in Dean's deeper voice that made him listen since it had always been Dean's voice that offered a way to tell when his brother was speaking from the heart or just saying words.

The slight break in the deeper than normal, more husky tone told Sam that his brother meant what he said. The inner relief that maybe he hadn't lost his brother yet gave Sam hope, it offered him the chance to try to fight against the other memories that seemed to want to control him but right then he felt too tired.

Sam wanted to sleep, he wanted to tell Dean everything he'd seen and heard after waking up in a room filled with too much light but the burning in his mind cut him off and he gripped onto Dean's hand harder when he realized his thoughts were slipping away. "Dean…please…"

Glad right then that Sam's eyes were cloudy so he couldn't see the tears shining in his own, Dean returned the grip while laying his other hand on the side of Sam's neck so his touch wouldn't hurt the wound he still needed to handle and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'll get you back, Sammy," he promised tightly. "Just keeping fightin' for me cause I'm makin' this right…hey,"

The sudden hard shudder of the younger man along with the way his shoulders tensed at the feel of Dean's grip on him warned the older Winchester that his little brother was gone again and he was once again dealing with a young man so like his brother but also so different.

"…hey," Sam whispered, feeling like his head was in a heavy fog. Feeling Dean's hands on him said that something had happened and the moment he cleared his eyes to see the deep pain still reflected in Dean's wet eyes Sam suddenly understand. "Awkward."

"You have no idea, kid," Dean sighed, going to move when Sam suddenly reached out to grab his wrist before he could let go fully. "I need you to let me clean these wounds and…tell me what memories hurt you so much," he had a hunch that if he could get to those that he'd have an easier time. "Sam, you know this isn't right, don't you?"

Sam did know that. He just didn't know what he could do to fix it. What he hadn't told Dean yet was that he had the other memories, memories that he was now pretty sure belonged to the real Sam Winchester except in some way both he and Dean's brother were real…but only one should be existing in this true reality and…he wasn't it.

He didn't think he was supposed to have these memories but it seemed like the more Sam tried to recall the little bits of his own life that should be important to him, like family, his thoughts hit a wall and bounced right back to Dean.

"When you…think of 'that' place, your life…can you see your past?" he asked quietly, leaning back against the wall again but not letting go of either the amulet or Dean's wrist. "I mean, could you see your parents, siblings, anything? Because I can't and when I try…it hurts."

Considering it, Dean slowly shook his head. "No, but then I don't think those little details were ever part of the plan," he admitted, hearing something that made him roll his eyes. "Sure, now he shows up," he groused, still keeping a hand on Sam while lifting his head to scowl toward the open bathroom door. "I'm getting you a damn cellphone."

"I'm an Angel of the Lord, a soldier of the Garrison…I don't need a…cellphone," Castiel replied, still not fully understanding Dean but then most mortals seemed to confuse him.

"Yeah, but you'll also not where I need you to be when I need you and when I don't need you then you're up my ass so I'm getting you a damn cellphone, Cas," Dean shot back sourly, feeling Sam's entire body going rigid as the trench coat wearing Angel stepped in. "I have issues and I think you probably already know what one of them is."

Castiel did suspect he'd known what Dean wanted when he first heard the shout but he also knew what his orders were in this matter. As he looked between the Winchesters, it didn't take the Angel long to both feel and see the problem even though he suspected Dean wasn't aware of just how deep his troubles really went yet.

When he went to take another step towards them however, Sam's reaction startled both Angel and human when he suddenly went from tired and still to panicked and thrashing as he tried to stand, to get away from Castiel as his eyes went wide.

"No, no!" he screamed, terror huge in his eyes and his voice as he managed to get to his knees only to feel Dean trying to keep him still. "Let me go! I won't let them touch me!" he yelled, lashing out blindly to catch Dean in the face with a flailing fist in his attempt to run from what he viewed as a threat.

"What the hell?" Dean demanded, face in agony from the fist that struck him and swearing he was sitting on Sam if he could ever get a hold of the kid. "Sam? Sammy, stop it. It's Cas and I know he's a…Sam!"

Mind in pure panic mode, Sam's reactions were to get away since he could suddenly see the black suited men that had hurt him, that had told him that Dean would hate him, what Dean would do to him if he ever could and this new arrival gave off the same power his could feel burning through his nerves.

Panic and a need to protect himself is what drove Sam to go for the .45 caliber gun that he on instinct knew Dean would have stuck in the back of his belt.

Grabbing it before Dean could regain his footing and go to stop him, Sam pulled the weapon, hit the safety and fired the entire clip into the new man's chest before realizing that bullets wouldn't hurt an Angel and knew when the Angel's hand began to lift that he was dead.

"Noooo!"

**TBC**

**A/N: **_Dean's got a mess on his hands and fixing it doesn't look promising, does it? Update soon._


	4. Chapter 4

**Mr. Smith Goes Home**

**Chapter Four**

"Cas! Stop!" Dean's whole world seemed to be going in slow motion from the moment his confused brother had grabbed his Colt and fired it empty into Castiel's chest.

While the weapon hadn't hurt the Angel it had caused a reaction since Castiel's basic reaction to being shot at was to react. Only when he reacted, people seemed to get smited and since that person was going to be Dean's little brother the hunter did the only thing he could.

Ignoring his stinging jaw, Dean managed to lunge up from the floor to put himself between Sam and Castiel which put the Angel's raised hand right in the hunter's face but he didn't blink. "Don't. Touch. Him," he spoke slowly but intently.

There was a tense moment in the crowded bathroom with only Sam's ragged breathing and mumbled words being heard until slowly the Angel lowered his hand with a look at Sam before his gaze shifted to Dean's hard face.

"Sam…is…ill?" he finally chose to ask, not understanding the blank look he received or the next expression which he knew by now was Dean's highly pissed off one.

"Duh. You think, genius?" Dean snorted then whirled to try to catch Sam before his legs buckled but could only fight down a snarl when his brother batted his hands away with a cry of alarm before he bolted from the bathroom. "Sammy!" he shouted but knew it was useless.

Something about Castiel had spooked Sam even in this state and if Dean wouldn't have had a pretty good idea as to who had hurt his brother before this reaction clinched it. "Wait here," he snapped then quickly took off after his brother. "Damn it!"

Not seeing Sam in the bedroom worried Dean because if his panic had forced him to run outside the cabin then Dean knew he'd have more troubles since he did not relish the thought of tracking a confused Sam through dense backwoods of some West Virginia hills.

The sound of the cabin door slamming open and then hearing a started cry told Dean that Sam was still inside and that Bobby had come running at the sounds of gunshots. "My week gets better," he muttered, ignoring the questioning Angel as he stepped into the main room to offer Bobby a tired grin before his gaze shot up to the loft area where he could hear movement and sounds he really didn't want to deal with right then. "Hey, Bobby."

"What's going on?" Bobby demanded, gun drawn and eyes looking around for a threat to shoot at. "You're still standing and not bleeding like a garden sprinkler…Dean, you didn't shoot Sam, did ya?" he asked warily when he noticed the Angel in the background. "Oh, guess not. Where's Sam?"

Jerking a thumb to the loft, Dean motioned the older man back. "He's freaked right now so give him a chance to settle down since he's back in 'Sam Wesson' frame of mind," he declared, turning to glare at the Angel whose hand print he still carried on his shoulder. "I take it that you know I met one of your bosses?"

"Yes. I was made aware that Zachariah had approached you," Castiel was still adjusting to having a vessel and dealing with mortals but even as himself he knew that for the older Angel to get involved then something else was happening. "It's…unusual for one such as he to meet with mortals so I suppose it would be considered an honor."

"Ha! I could've done without that honor," Dean shot back, pointing to the loft while still glaring. "Your boss screwed with mine and Sam's heads, Cas. He changed our reality around just to prove a freakin' point to me but then when he was done and I snapped back I find out that something else happened to my brother.

"Sam's head is turned around so that he has his memories but he also has those of who he was back there. Plus, something happened to him. Someone hurt my brother, told him crap like he was evil and that I'd leave him. Now, you got a clue to who that was?" he demanded, arching a brow as he watched the Angel try to keep up. "I think I know and I also think you'd better tell me I'm wrong before I tell all you freaks to get the hell out of our lives."

Looking around at the interior of the odd cabin rather than meet Dean's heated gaze. "Dean…Zachariah is above me so I'm not always able to know what he does or…Dean."

Forgetting or not caring how easy it would be for this act to get him wiped off the Earth, Dean was in Castiel's face. "Did that bald conniving bastard go after my brother?" he asked in a very low voice, fingers grabbing the front of the trench coat as he would any normal person.

"Since I got back, all of you feathered assholes have been jerking me around," he complained, eyes briefly going to the loft then shot back to Castiel. "You time-tripped me back to before my folks were married, you've done nothing _but _point out how dangerous and bad Sam's becoming and you nearly got me killed by forcing me to torture Alastair even though you knew I didn't want to go down that path ever again!"

Giving the coat a quick shake, Dean debated on throwing a punch but knew how that would work so refrained. "You guys have done nothing but try to force me and Sam apart…"

"Sam's 'friendship' with the demon, his use of his…abilities make him an unwise choice of partners for what we need from you," Castiel remarked, offering an all too human sigh when the fist bounced off his jaw. "Dean, you know hitting me only results in injury to yourself so why do it?"

"Because you keep pissing me off!" Dean shot back, temper sizzling so much that he didn't even feel the pain of his bruised fist. "You talk about him like Sam's a third rate person. Like just because he's made a few mistakes that he deserves to be punished or made to feel inferior…"

"He's working with a demon and using powers that were given to him by a demon," the Angel interrupted, missing the heat that flashed in the opposite set of green eyes. "I told you to stop him before or that we would and…again with the punch?"

Gritting his teeth this time to stop from swearing after he'd swung on instinct, Dean spun away to put some distance between himself and Castiel before he ended up breaking his damn hand. "I made a damn deal that sent me to Hell in the first place!" he yelled, no longer caring about keeping his voice down despite hearing Bobby warning him to as something Alastair said back in that room came back. "I broke the damn first seal."

"That is true but the goodness is your heart still outweigh those things," Castiel replied, holding up a hand. "Dean, I understand your anger but you must understand that if Sam's not stopped he will pose a danger that is too great to be ignored. Zachariah just wanted to see if…"

"Dean!" Bobby yelled, managing to latch onto the boy before he could go for the Angel's throat.

"What the hell did he do to my brother?" the question was demanded in quiet fury, a tone that Bobby had only heard a few times in Dean's life. "Answer me, Cas! What did your boss do to Sam?"

Considering what he'd been told to what he'd seen when first looking at the younger Winchester today, Castiel noticed vast differences and wasn't certain what his next move should be…except to tell Dean the truth. "He wanted to express just how dangerous it would be to both of you if he did not stop his activities," he began slowly, as if trying to comprehend what he'd noticed of Sam's wounds.

"Dean, you need to fully understand the war we're fighting. You need to focus your full attention on preventing Lucifer's minions from breaking more seals," he went on, wondering if his superiors really got how stubborn this mortal was. "Sam is a weakness that neither you nor we can afford right now and Zachariah thought having a one on one meeting with him would…"

"Your goddamn boss tortured my brother!" Dean cut in, still seeing the mark on Sam's neck along with the other wounds that were now appearing and slowly he began to wonder if Bobby would be able to see the wounds on Sam that Dean could. "I spent forty damn years in Hell learning from Alastair. Did you think I wouldn't recognize what an Angel brand looks like?" he smirked at the look of unease on Castiel's face.

"Sammy grew up believing in the Angels on TV or in the storybooks but you guys aren't like that, are you? Alastair told me a lot of stuff, Cas. He showed me a lot of stuff and I know what's on Sam's neck. You better pray I don't find any other brand on that kid or the whole damn lot of you may just find out what I was taught," he gritted, shrugging off the hand that Bobby still hand on him. "Your kind screwed his head up. Now you're going to fix him."

Blinking at that, Castiel was left speechless while trying to come up with a reply before simply shaking his head. "Dean…how Sam came back from whatever Zachariah did…that is clearly how he was meant to be now. I…I can't get involved," he declared. "I'm sorry."

"Well, there goes the property," Bobby sighed, not even bothering to try to grab Dean again.

"Come again?" Dean didn't make a move to lunge or even raise his voice at that statement. Instead he stared at the Angel while trying to process it. "Are you telling me that it was alright for your boss to hijack us, screw up our reality, touch my brother, scatter his brain six ways to Sunday and then leave him like that? You seriously telling me that's what I'm supposed to accept?" he blinked at the simple nod before running a hand around to rub his neck. "Huh."

Walking around the room in an effort to work off some of the boiling rage he could feel building, Dean waited until he'd counted to about a hundred or until he heard Sam's throwing up again before he turned to face Castiel again. "Your so-called ass of a boss did this crap to try to show me that even I lived a normal 9-to-5 life, even if I didn't have a brother that I couldn't escape being a hunter…that it was my 'destiny'," he mused, waving Bobby off as he moved to place himself between Castiel and the loft.

"Ever since I was old enough to understand what had happened to my Mom, to know what my Dad did I've been hearing about destiny, about what my life should be about and I'm going to tell you the same thing that I've always known," tapping a finger into Castiel's chest, Dean's eyes hardened. "That guy up there? The one you feathery types seem to think is so bad, those one who saved your ungrateful ass from Alastair? That's what my life is about."

Thinking back to the night he'd carried his six month old brother out of their burning house every promise Dean ever made came rushing back to him.

Oh, he knew he and Sam would still have issues…assuming he could ever get his brother's head back in order again, but as he stood face to face with an angelic being who could kill him with a blink Dean suddenly relaxed because it had just hit him what so many people have been trying to tell him.

Only he just understood it in his own way…which was perhaps not what these angel types had been considering by choosing him to be the all-vital one to stop their so-called war. "My so-called destiny? My destiny is watching out for my 6'4", too big hearted for my own good baby brother and that's something you better tell the boys up top, Cas.

"Sam's my brother. He will always be my brother, freaky powers or not cause I won't let him take the blame for something our Mom let happen by making the deal that saved Dad back in '73," Dean watched the Angel's face but couldn't yet define a change of expression. "I said I'd do what I could to stop this mess but I'm a package type of deal and Sammy's part of that package. No Sammy, no me. Now, you going to heal him or not?"

Lifting his gaze toward the loft for a long moment, Castiel finally looked grim as he faced Dean. "I'm…sorry, Dean. I…I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Bobby asked from where he was standing.

"It doesn't matter," Dean told him, not really shocked but had still been hopeful. "Fine, you're under orders to let Sam rot then take this back to Zachariah and whoever else you're jumping through hoops for. If they think my little brother is so damn dangerous because he can rip demons out of their vessels or whatever else, consider this…I broke one damn seal and I can choose to break a few more if one more angel comes close to even think of touching Sam," he warned, tone dropping to the hard icy one that seemed to be leftover from Hell.

"Your kind shattered my brother when he's already been shattered enough by me lately. I will find a way to heal Sammy and then all of you had better stay the hell out of our lives," Dean added, turning when a hand gripped his shoulder. "Get out, Cas. If you can't or won't help Sam…then I don't need you here."

Castiel looked like he might argue but after another moment, he gave a short nod and vanished as easily as he'd arrived leaving the two hunters alone in the cabin's great room.

"So much for all of Pastor Jim's heavenly speeches about angels and forgiveness," Dean muttered, rubbing his face and wishing he could sleep but knowing he had a lot more to do before he could even think of closing his eyes. "No, I'll handle him."

Bobby could see the exhaustion building in Dean as well as an edge of something he couldn't define. "If he sleeps any you better get some too," he advised, wanting to help but accepting that Dean wouldn't let anyone near Sam right now. "I'll be close if you need me."

"Yeah, thanks," Dean considered asking Bobby about this place then chose to wait until he was more alert since he was also unsure if he really wanted to know.

Glancing up to the loft, he rummaged through both duffels until he found everything he figured he'd need then grabbed a few other items from the kitchen before easily scaling the ladder to reach the loft only to freeze the second he got his first look.

"Uh-huh," running his tongue over his teeth, Dean was glad he had a good grip on the ladder of else he figured he would've fell. "Okay, so I'm going to love to hear Bobby's explanation of this one."

Expecting to find the loft to be like any other loft in a cabin it took Dean by surprise to see something totally different.

Neon green shag carpet covered the floor while the back and two half side walls seemed to be covered in wall hangings featuring some risqué paintings that now firmly told Dean he was killing Bobby as soon as he seen him again.

Dean had been in plenty of brothels and bars before in his life. He'd seen a lot of weird and outrageous things in the stripper clubs he'd frequented but the decorations in the loft were blowing his mind. Then his eyes landed on the huge custom made bed in the center of the loft and he nearly swallowed his tongue.

"Hunting lodge my ass," he muttered, ignoring the heart shaped bed covered in deep red velvet and silk linen with mirrors suspended above it in order to locate his brother in this mess of weird. "Sam?"

Listening, it didn't take Dean long to locate Sam curled up in a back corner of the loft. Easily sidestepping the mess on the carpet when Sam threw up again, he was more cautious when he knelt down since he didn't want to scare Sam anymore than he already would be.

"Sam?" setting the bottle of water he'd grabbed from the kitchen next to where Sam's hand was still curled in the black cord attached to the amulet, Dean noticed a few more bruises and assumed the wounds were coming out now that any power the angels had used on his brother was wearing off. "It's okay. Cas is…he's gone and he wouldn't have hurt you."

Expecting the silence, Dean eased himself down onto the too soft and fluffy carpet to watch Sam closely and knew he was awake but figured all of this had just gotten to be too much. "Sam…I…I wish I knew what to say this time. I wish I knew what do but…I don't. I don't know how to make this right despite promising that I would," he sighed, disgusted and angry with himself. "Sam…"

"That's…not what you're used to calling me, is it?" Sam's voice was soft, nearly hoarse but he still didn't reach for the water or lift his head up.

"No, it's not," Dean admitted then shrugged. "You don't seem to like 'Sammy' any better than he does though so…why push my luck. Drink some water."

Moving his head just enough that he could see Dean a little, Sam hesitated before opening the palm of his left hand that he'd hand clutched against his stomach. "Don't think I can."

"What?" looking over and expecting to have his brother say his muscles and joints had all stiffened up from what he'd been through, Dean's eyes spotted blood dripping from Sam's fingers and immediately was back on his knees beside him.

Taking Sam's wrist more gently than he felt like being, Dean ran his fingers over the palm and heard the hiss of pain but also saw the wound. "Shit!" he exploded, glad he hadn't seen this while Castiel had been here or one of them wouldn't have lived.

"Sam, look at me," Dean held his breath as his younger brother slowly raised his head and in that one instance memories of Hell flashed back into his mind. "God, Sammy. What the hell did they do?"

Reaching out carefully to touch Sam, Dean caught the bloody hand that went to deflect his own with a sharp tone that he used to use on a hurt Sam when needing to check a wound. "Stop and hold still a second. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Why? He said you would," Sam's tone was different this time. It was too quiet which was always a concern but it was also in a mixture of the dry tone Sam Wesson used and the pure bitch face one his brother used when tired and testy. "They want…you. Not me. He said they can hurt me cause they can't hurt you and no one can see the wounds…why can you?"

"Never mind," Dean muttered, not needing Sam to start asking questions he wasn't prepared to answer yet. "I know what the angels want and I know they're the ones who hurt you. I don't know why but…"

"Cause I'm…cursed…or at least the me that should be me is since I can't be since I'm not him…" Sam frowned a little as he tried to go back through that line then shrugged while pulling his hand back only to discount Dean's speed when he snatched it back to see if he could stop the flow of blood from the hole in the palm. "That make sense to you?"

"Nothing you say half the time makes sense to me when you're in shock, Sam," Dean grumbled, hissing out a low curse when he couldn't get the blood to stop. "Sam, how'd they do this?" he wanted to know, looking down to see if the other hand was bleeding and knowing this situation had just gotten worse when he did see blood seeping through the clenched fingers of Sam's hand. "Damn it! Alright, up on the bed. We've gotta see how bad you're hurt."

Wanting to resist, to just give in to the pain and the mocking voice he could hear right then, Sam didn't fight when Dean got him to his feet and after a few shaky steps managed to make it to the odd shaped bed. "Uhhh,"

"Don't ask," Dean advised, feeling weird at even having his brother close to this bed but not seeing a choice since he knew he'd never get him down the ladder right then. "Just…ignore everything and promise to forget it."

"Y'know…he wasn't supposed to wake up," Sam mumbled, groaning the second his back touched the silk sheet since the velvet coverlet had gone flying with a harsh oath. "Your Sam…I think they thought they'd…destroyed his mind or…something…wanna know my opinion?"

Debating on if he did or not, Dean decided since Sam was talking, even if he had to listen hard to understand him, that he'd take it. "Sure," he grunted, not liking what he was seeing since even though Sam was still holding the amulet the wound on that hand could be seen from the outside. "Sam, how'd you get the wounds on your hands?" he asked again. "Can you remember or are those…damn this is hard, are those my brother's memories?"

"Yeah…but I have those now," Sam slit one eye so he could still see Dean while keeping the other closed to avoid the burning pain. "I think…they nailed me…him too close to altering your memories. Sam's was still coming back when he was attacked by…couple guys in suits. He fought…I fought…but the second the first spike was put through his hand is when our memories got mixed."

Reaching for the still untouched water, Dean nearly fell off the side of the bed in his attempt to twist back at that comment. "They…that bad, arrogant son of a bitch impaled your hands?" he gritted, anger washing over him again at even the thought of his brother going through that.

"Wanted…attention…he said," Sam shook his head, still watching Dean as he struggled to clean the open palm wounds and didn't miss the rage he seen flashing on the older brother's face. "They're trying to push him away from you."

"Guessed that," Dean knew he sounded short but it was all coming together for him and he just wanted to stop his brother from bleeding. "Got a clue to why all these are opening now?" he thought he could guess but wanted to hear Sam's opinion.

Sam looked up so he could avoid seeing Dean about to pour antiseptic on the jagged cut on his arm, then blinked when he saw them reflected in the mirror hanging from the vaulted ceiling. "Umm, where we at?" he asked, relaxing a little at the snort he got in reply. "You know any strippers who like cabins in the wood?"

"Nooo, but Bobby has a lot of explaining to do since this is his buddy's place," Dean still wasn't sure if he wanted to know but at least Sam was distracted. "Opinions?"

"No reason to hide it since they figure you guessed what happened," Sam sighed, turning his head since it was way too weird for him to watch the mirror. "Sam's a threat to you doing what they want. If Sam's mind didn't recall who he was & I stayed it either would've driven you away or pushed you to the edge that they've been leading you toward."

Giving up on the bleeding hands for the moment, Dean wrapped them both with strips of a clean white shirt he'd found in what should be a closet then nudged Sam's shoulder to ease him to his side for a look at his back only to feel his heart do a hard jerk. "Damn, Sam," he whispered.

Back in the hospital, Dean had suspected his brother's back would have some bruises but he hadn't been expecting the massive amount of bruises, welts and the single large burn in the center of his shoulder blades. "You want something for the pain?"

"No," Sam bit his lip, debating on telling Dean something he supposed he should have earlier then chose to wait until he told him something he figured was more important…something a piece of him as Sam Wesson suspected that Sam Winchester would never tell his older brother. "He…still looks up to you."

Swearing under his breath and cursing all angels in general and Zachariah in particular, Dean hadn't been paying attention until those words came. Then he had to be quick to catch the bottle of antiseptic he bobbled. "Come again?" he narrowed his eyes when Sam shifted to his back and tried to sit up only to fall back to the pillows.

"Sam…your Sam…he still looks up to you," Sam repeated with a yawn, tired now but fighting it for both his sake and the life of the young man whose memories he could see clearly now. "He…knows that you think he doesn't cause…of all this stuff but he really does. He wants…to make you proud of him. That's…one of the reasons he's done what he has with…her. The other…" he paused to grit his teeth in pain before he could finish. "…he was scared to be alone…thinks he isn't good enough. You're still better no matter what was said before."

Swallowing hard, Dean put aside the bottle to catch the reaching hand when he suddenly noticed how much more pale Sam seemed as well as how cold his hand was. "Sam?" he called when the younger man's eyes seemed to cloud for a second then snapped back with a blink. "You…okay? Besides all the bleeding wounds I need to stitch and clean?"

"You're not…weak. He hates it that you…think he believes what was said but he was feeling hurt," Sam tried to feel Dean's hand and found a small ounce of panic when he realized he couldn't. "The fighting, the way you've pushed him away…the angels…I guess he's like you a lot. He lashes out when he's hurt…like you do. He…knows what you've given up for him and he thinks you do…hate him but…he…" he paused a second to consider then just rushed it out before any of them could react. "…he loves you and wishes you still…argh!"

Stunned at what he'd been hearing and fighting to keep his own exhausted emotions in check, Dean moved at the muted scream to keep Sam laying still. "Okay, you shouldn't be this bad. I'm not seeing anything besides your hands and those ones on your back and neck to cause that amount of pain so…what the hell am I missing, kiddo?" he demanded, not liking the icy feeling in his gut anymore than he was what he was hearing about Sam's hidden fears. "Sam?"

"I'm sorta glad the life I know, Sam Wesson's life, isn't real," Sam whispered tightly, making his eyes stay open to lock onto Dean's. "You're…a lot cooler in this life than before."

Laughing, Dean squeezed the hand gripped in his. "Remember that the next time I bitch at you," he remarked, reaching up to rub his eyes when he saw the tears in Sam's and fought the panic. "Damn it, Sam…"

"Been bleeding…inside for a couple hours," Sam decided to admit since it was too late for Dean to do anything even if the angels would have allowed it. "Plus I think they really messed him up, De'n. He's scared."

Remembering the gut wrenching fear he'd felt the night that stupid asshole stabbed Sam in the back at Cold Oak, Dean's whole body had gone still when it finally hit what was happening and how stupid he'd been not to have seen it coming.

Castiel's refusal to heal Sam, the suddenly appearing wounds. Whatever the hell was happening in Heaven, whoever besides Zachariah who'd hurt his brother didn't want Sam recovering. They didn't want Dean to find a way to get his brother back in control and the only way to do that would be to open wounds they'd given him and had healed over.

A thousand things were flashing in Dean's mind but the only one he could hold on to was his little brother was dying in front of his eyes and he had no way to stop it.

"No," his basic reaction was to get clear of this. To run until his legs gave out or until he woke up from this god awful nightmare he seemed to be trapped in.

Looking back down into huge puppy dog eyes reminded him that he couldn't run this time. He couldn't run and leave Sam alone when he seemed to know what was happening. It was the fingers trying to grip his hand that warned him time was running out.

"You…still in control?" he asked through a cough that he prayed hid the break in his voice.

Understanding the question, Sam nodded slowly. "It's going. Guess it's more cruel to let him die as himself. Hey, Dean? Thanks for…being there."

Gripping the hand tighter, Dean forced a fake smile. "Hey, someone had to look after you," he retorted, adding. "Sam…I…I'm sorry I didn't…"

"…weren't supposed to," Sam whispered, feeling himself going and wishing that Dean didn't have to face his brother like this. "He's…"

"I know. I'll be here with him," Dean replied, watching as Sam's eyes drifted closed and counted the seconds he had to try to regain control of his breaking emotions when he felt his brother's body jerk and with a gasp Sam snapped awake in pure agony. "Sammy."

Head buzzing, body screaming in agony along with every other part of him it took Sam Winchester several seconds to realize he was back in control of his mind and that something was really wrong.

"…De'n…ugh!" gagging as he suddenly choked, Sam tried to turn but stopped when he saw that he'd spit up blood. "De'n!"

Hearing the panic in the choking voice and seeing it reflected in huge hazel eyes had Dean moving until he was sitting at the top of the bed and carefully easing his weakly struggling brother over until he was sitting up against Dean's side.

"Sammy," he didn't know what to say and knew that would scare Sam more since Dean always had some answer to anything. "Just hang on and don't give up on me. I'll make the damn angels fix this."

Slowly able to breathe despite burning agony in his chest Sam's head cleared enough to allow him to know what was wrong and what was happening. Tensing, he felt Dean's arm around his shoulders and bit his lip while noticing the amulet in his clenched hand.

"Guess…you'll do this…alone now," he whispered, scared suddenly but not wanting to show his big brother how much. "…De'n, I…um…do you…"

Using one hand to slash at the tears on his face, Dean shifted so that he could still support his brother but also look him in the face. "I'm your big brother, Sammy. No matter how big a pain in the ass you can be, I will always be proud of you and I'll…okay, chick flick rule aside, I love you and I will fix this so don't you dare die on me," he stated firmly, feeling his brother shudder as another pain wracked spasm went through him and he saw the thin line of blood trail from Sam's nose. "Shit. You want…do you want…Ruby?"

"…who're you…?" Sam blinked since he knew Ruby would be the last person on Earth his demon hating brother would call.

"God, you are such a smart-ass," fighting between laughing, crying, or slapping his brother for the remark, Dean settled on doing all three. "I can't save you this time, Sammy. I…can try to make Cas come back but…so if want her, say the word and…"

Shaking his head, Sam tried to stay focused on Dean's face since it had been a long time since he'd seen his anti-emotional brother shed real tears. "No, don' wan' Ruby," he mumbled, knowing she'd caused the troubles he had with his brother now. "Don' wanna…die, De'n."

"I know, kid," Dean returned, reaching into the pocket of his jeans to grab something he'd stuffed in there from his duffel. "Hey, figured you'd want this back," he slid the black band that they'd both once worn onto his brother's wrist. "Found it in my shirt pocket after I got…back."

Blearily recalling putting his band in with his brother the day he'd buried him, Sam stared at it before lifting his tired and blurry eyes back up. "What's…hell like?" he asked suddenly, hearing something from his subconscious that made him want to know. "Don' really…want to go to…"

"Hey, you are not going to Hell. No matter what that damn Angel said, you aren't going to Hell," Dean replied firmly, needing to believe that since he'd fought too long and too hard to keep his brother from ever being touched by that place to think his soul would go there at the end. "You're gonna go see Mom, little brother and…I will find some way to make this right."

Hearing Dean's deep husky voice break reminded Sam of other times he'd been hurt and his brother thought he'd asleep. "Don't do anything…stupid, 'kay?" he suspected his brother would since even this close to death Sam knew his brother too well. "We…both knew…I'd screw up or…"

"You didn't screw up, Sammy. This isn't your fault and I wish for once that I could keep that promise to look out for you," Dean sighed, feeling Sam move in pain and hating to see his brother hurting like this when he hadn't done anything to deserve it. "Just go…to sleep, Sam. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Won't…wake up," Sam mumbled, knowing this just like he knew in his heart that his brother would do something dangerous the first chance he got. "I…this hurts."

Dean tasted blood as he bit his bottom lip in the act of fighting back tears and anger as he let Sam curl tighter against him like he would as a child and frightened. "It'll…stop soon," he replied quietly, hearing the last thing his brother mumbled before pain, shock, wounds and exhaustion took him under and finally let his own shattered heart break. "Yeah, I'll never forget you, little brother."

Waiting until Sam had stilled, Dean eased him down onto the pillows to lay a hand over his heart to still feel it beating and took a few steps away from the bed before his grief turned to rage and he let out a scream before slamming his fist through one of the wall hangings.

"Goddamn it all!" he shouted, furious with the world, with himself, with everyone who had even tried to hurt his brother when all Sam had wanted was to ne normal. "Castiel! Goddamn you, get back here and fix this or I swear you, Heaven, and everything can burn!"

Not getting any reply after a few moments, Dean finally dropped to his knees. "Castiel…"

"Castiel can't hear you, Dean. He's being blocked."

The sudden unexpected voice took him off guard. Shooting to his feet much too quickly than his sleep deprived body appreciated, Dean felt the world start to spin even as he was trying to focus on the Angel who'd spoken but knew he was going down hard. "Don't…touch…him…shit…"

**TBC**

**A/N: **_Nobody panic! I know what this looks like but trust chapter five and don't kill the author._


	5. Chapter 5

**Mr. Smith Goes Home**

**Chapter Five**

The sound and feel of a thousand little strippers dancing in his skull is what Dean Winchester woke up to or at least he thinks he was waking up since his memory seemed about as shaky as his head.

Groaning when his head wanted to explode along with his stomach, Dean's hand shot out to grab for something to smother himself with only to have his hand grope silky material instead of a pillow like he'd been expecting.

Dean's fingers continued to feel for something familiar but just continued to touch silk until he finally rolled to his stomach which made his blurry mind consider this bed seemed too big for the ones he and Sam usually got in a motel.

As the pain slowly began to ebb, Dean's mind also began to wake up fully and as it did his memory shot back. Stupid Angels screwed with them, messing up reality and his and Sam's lives. He woke up fine but…Sam.

Eyes shooting open at the thought of his brother, Dean's brain went into overload and he ignored the blinding pain and flash of light behind his pupils when he opened them too fast but his biggest concern was locating his brother.

Sam had been hurt. His mind hadn't come out of that little angel experiment in one piece and he'd been bouncing between himself and who he'd been in that other place until finally the wounds he'd been given decided to open.

"Sam?" voice a choked frog from being dry and probably hours of sleep, at least Dean hoped it was just hours, he looked around to see he was still in the loft in the cabin that Bobby had directed them to.

The huge custom made heart shaped bed freaked Dean out anyway and so he was quick to try to get himself out of it only to feel his head swim and his legs nearly buckle. "Sam?" surprised at being so weak, he grabbed for one of the creepy wall hangings to see the one he'd put his fist through at the realization his brother was dying and he was powerless to help him.

Struggling to bring back those last few moments, Dean remembered sitting beside Sam until his little brother had slipped under for what probably would be the last time. He remembered the rage and loss he felt, as well as screaming for Castiel when he heard a voice.

"Must've…passed out," he reasoned, thinking he could remember trying to turn toward the voice while also putting himself between the angel who'd arrived and his already dying brother.

Furious that it had been Castiel's superior, Zachariah, and some angel goons who had grabbed his brother in between Dean's meeting with the bald arrogant Angel of the Lord and when things were shifted back to how they should be, the hunter wasn't trusting one who just showed up out of the blue.

However, it had been several days since Dean had slept fully or ate so when those were combined with the grief he'd been feeling the natural reaction was for his body to simply take him out for a few hours.

A quick look at his watch however told Dean that he'd been sleeping for more than a few hours since the dates and time on the watch were saying he'd been out for over thirty-two hours.

A burst of panic hit him as he realized he'd not only failed to shield Sam from further harm but he'd left him alone in those last final moments of life. If Sam had woken up again he faced death by himself because his big brother hadn't been strong enough to stay awake for another day or so.

"_Sonuvabitch_!" Dean felt the same anger and loss that he did in Cold Oak when he'd failed to find Sam in time or prevent Jake from stabbing him, and then it hit him that he was alone in the loft.

Blood still showed on the silk sheets of the bed as well as a line of it running across the neon green shag carpet toward the ladder but that meant Sam's body would've needed dragged from the loft as if…

Dean already felt weak and sick at the thought of losing so many hours, of not being with his little brother like he promised he would but at the thought of why Sam's body wasn't where it damn well should have been his still tired emotions shifted from grief to anger.

"No, no way in hell," he gritted, forgetting how much he was hurting to just slide down the ladder to the main floor. Grabbing his Colt from where he'd tossed it earlier, he didn't stop to think or consider anything else since his mind had focused on two things: Sam was dead but he'd be damned if anyone burned his little brother's body.

Standard practice for hunters is to burn the body. Dean had seen it done more than once. He'd done the same when his own Father had died and he expected he'd do the same many more times in his life but not this time. He had no intention of giving Sam a hunter's funeral for the simple reason of he had firm intentions of getting his little brother back.

Sam had gone against tradition when he'd buried Dean, of which Dean was sort of glad since he'd come back, but Bobby had explained the bitter fight he and Sam had gotten into over that matter.

The older hunter had wanted to burn Dean's body both out of respect and so nothing evil could bring him back. Bobby knew the old ways were often best…he also would've known that there was no way that Dean would've agreed to burn Sam.

On the rational side, Dean's head knew if he'd been in Bobby's position that he would've taken care of the matter while Dean had been dead to the world.

That was what the rational side was saying. The irrational side, the grief stricken, pissed off older brother side of Dean's personality on the other hand was saying something totally different and it involved a huge fight if he couldn't locate Sam's body soon.

Pausing to get his bearings since he didn't know the area he was in, Dean listened but it was the smell that caught him first. Gasoline, wood, smoke all rolled through the clean mountain air and straight into his heart. "Goddamn it, Bobby," he gritted.

Dean took off running down a path where the smell seemed to be coming from, ignoring the pounding in his head from this much exertion after waking up still feeling like crap. All he was aware of right then was feeling betrayed and lost.

When his Mom had been killed when he'd only been four years old, he'd still had his Dad and Sam. After his Dad had died making the deal that had spared Dean's own life, he'd still had Sam. Dean had made the deal that took his own life to save Sam since he could not, would not, see himself without his little brother.

He fought to survive Hell, to get back mainly for his brother and had just come to the conclusion that it would take a lot more than some bitching angels or a demon skank to force him and Sam apart. Now Dean was forced to face being alone, without the last thing he considered family outside of Bobby, for the first time in his life and that just wasn't improving his mood any.

Seeing the fire burning in a small clearing by a lake made all rational thought leave his mind as all Dean could see in those dancing flames was the eyes of his little brother. He could see Sam as a baby learning to walk or talk. He saw his brother growing up, all through the fights, the troubles…all Dean could see now in the flames was the fear in Sam's huge puppy dog looking eyes before he'd gone under this last time.

Eyes burning from the smoke, since Dean refused to admit the tears clouding his vision were from anything else, he wasn't even fully aware of when his body moved or his next actions. "Bobby!"

"Dammit, boy!" Bobby figured he'd jumped nearly a foot off the ground at the unexpected shout, figuring he probably had another day at the least before he'd have to face the elder Winchester brother. "How'd the hell you get outta that bed?" he asked without looking away from the roaring fire he'd been tending to all day. "Much less how'd you get out of the loft or the cabin for the matter? We figured you'd fall flat on your face with the way you went down. Dean?"

Turning a brief look aware from the fire to check on Dean, Bobby had expected him to be upset when he woke up. Winchesters were notoriously testy when first waking up after being hurt, sick, hung over or just in general.

What he hadn't been expecting was the short, fast, and hard fist that slammed into his jaw, sending him stumbling away from the flames. "Balls!" he yelled, trying to regain his footing only to have a fist curl in the front of his shirt to yank him closer to Dean's enraged face. "Boy, what the hell's gotten into you?"

"You had no right, Bobby!" Dean yelled, fury outweighing his common sense as he could feel the heat of the fire on his back through his black T-shirt and he thought of Sam asking him what hell would be like. "No damn right at all! He was my brother! Sam…damn it, you know I wouldn't have…not to him! Not to Sammy!"

Wanting to throw more punches until the pain in his heart eased, a loud pop from a piece of dry wood suddenly had him forgetting his rage at the older man to take a sudden quick step toward the burning pile, burning green eyes locked on the top as his memories shot him with views of his laughing and smiling brother.

Despite bitching at what a pain in the ass his little brother could be it never failed to lift Dean's spirits or take his mind off of something when Sam would laugh or make some joke…except for the time the brat super glued his hand to a beer bottle.

"Sammy," he whispered, slashing violently at his face before moving as if he was going to jump at the flames. "I promised him that I'd make it right. I promised him that I'd be there when he woke up. I. Promised. Him," Dean gritted, both fists clenching and when the pile of burning wood shifted again that was all he could take, forgetting the flames and the heat as his muscles bunched to move. "Damn it!"

"Dean!" Bobby shouted, moving a lot quicker than even he thought was possible to grab Dean the moment he realized what the enraged stupid boy was about to do. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, ducking the rushed blow when Dean jerked free. "Dean, stop it! Get away from there before you get burned or…damn idjit," he muttered when two hands flat on his chest shoved hard but this time Bobby wasn't budging.

"I need to put it out, Bobby," Dean snapped, eyes wilder than the older man could ever recall seeing except for once…the night Sam died in Cold Oak. "I need to stop the fire. I need to at least keep one damn promise. You should've waited…Sammy…didn't deserve this crap and I don't care what else we've said I would not have burned…_Sonuvabitch_!"

Suddenly understanding what was happening, Bobby was quick to grab onto Dean again. Shoving him back from the fire that he seemed determined to get to, he stared in shock that quickly turned to anger. "You think this is a funeral pyre, boy?" he demanded loudly, wondering if he knocked the boy out if he'd wake up with more brains. "Is that why you're so determined to catch yourself on fire? You think I burned your brother?"

Raw emotion had Dean fighting back against the grip preventing him from trying to knock the pile of burning wood apart. "What happened after I went out?" he wanted to know, hating the thought of Sam suffering any more pain. "Were you with him at least, Bobby? What happened?"

Sam had always been the creative one out of the two of them at least outwardly but Dean had a vivid imagination when it suited him and right then it was working in overdrive.

He could see Sam waking up one last time, being confused as to why Dean wasn't with him like he said he would be. He hoped Bobby had checked back in so at least Sam wouldn't have been alone or…with an angel that Dean didn't honestly know could be trusted or not.

If he let himself think too hard Dean thought he could hear his brother's voice calling for him and that merely made the hurt he was feeling worse.

"Dean, listen to me," Bobby realized too late that this situation had gotten out of hand and he was running out of options to calm the young man down without hurting him. "Damn it, boy! Listen to me a second. I didn't burn Sam's body!"

"Then where is he?" Dean shot back, no longer caring the tone he used or if he was pushing Bobby's temper since all he knew was that his brother's body wasn't in the cabin and there was a huge fire burning. "Where the hell's Sam, Bobby? Where is he?"

"Behind you, ya idjit!" Bobby snapped back gruffly.

"…Dean?"

The quiet voice that spoke from behind him once again had Dean whirling on the heel of his boot to find it only to feel something hard slap into the base of his head and he saw a brief glimpse of shock in hazel eyes before things went black.

"Damn stubborn idjit," Bobby muttered, tossing the small piece of wood he'd grabbed when Dean became distracted and to knock him back out with. "I swear, both of you are enough to drive me to drink more than I already do."

Moving quickly despite still feeling stiff and sore, Sam Winchester was able to grab his brother by the shoulders to keep him from falling face first into the dirt before giving Bobby a look that was between surprise and irritation. "Wasn't that a bit extreme?"

"He got in few lucky shots on me too, Sam," Bobby groused, rolling his eyes as he gave the younger Winchester a hard look. "Now you wanna tell me what the hell you're goin' outta that cabin? You still look like hell."

"When I realized Dean was awake but I couldn't find him inside I figured he might've come outside but I didn't think he'd leap to this conclusion," Sam sighed, beginning to lift his brother to his feet only to have Bobby nudge him aside. "Bobby, I can…"

Growling under his breath about stubborn boys and even bigger pains in his ass than their Dad had been, Bobby shot Sam a glare that he usually gave to his brother. "You're barely in better shape than he is, Sam. You're living…well, I'm still not sure I understood it all, now get your ass back inside while I bring this moron," he ordered firmly, using a tone he reserved only for the Winchester brothers as he wondered something. "What're you planning on telling Dean about this?"

Pausing to try to stretch his arms over his head and wincing as he felt tight muscles pop in his neck and back. "Since I'm not sure I believe or get it all either…I'm not sure what to tell him, except…I'm alive," Sam replied, walking next to Bobby as he half dragged, half carried Dean back inside to drop him on the sofa in the main room then went to get the first aid kit.

Sitting on the edge of the sofa to look at his older brother pale and haggard looking face, Sam considered what he'd woken up to and supposed from what little he could recall of the past few days he could understand Dean's reactions.

He just wondered how he'd take it when he woke up again to learn that Sam wasn't dead when not even Sam fully understood why he wasn't…

**Thirty-Two Hours Earlier:**

Watching as shock, pain, exhaustion and more importantly grief caused Dean to pass out after he'd tried to stand too quickly to put himself between his dying brother and herself, Anna Milton shook her head.

"I won't hurt him, Dean," she assured the hunter as she knelt beside him, running her fingers through his short hair while remembering their brief time together before she'd gotten her Grace back. "Not all Angels are like Zachariah."

On the run from the garrison since she didn't approve or agree with some of the decisions coming out of Heaven these days, she'd had a target on her back even before getting her Grace back and had stayed running since.

Anna had spoken to Castiel only once and that was when she'd realized what they'd made Dean do. She had hoped after realizing Uriel's part in Alastair's near escape that Castiel would begin to see that following orders blindly would be the worst thing for both himself and the Winchesters and was disappointed that he hadn't.

Sensing Dean's mounting anguish and hearing his shout for the trench coated Angel; Anna had come when she realized that the higher ups in Heaven were keeping Castiel from hearing Dean's call.

A simple look at Sam laying on a bed that Anna had to admit she found quite…interesting clearly told her what had happened to the younger man.

Being an Angel, she still had the ability to recognize the handiwork of others in the garrison and since she was all too familiar with Zachariah's unique style Anna easily knew he'd been the one to hurt Sam. She also knew it had been Zachariah who had decided to release the wounds so they'd show in the real world but not heal.

"Killing Dean's brother won't get you his help," she spoke softly, eyes sad when she took in the internal injuries on top of the external ones and noticed how labored Sam's breathing had become. "Losing Sam will just more than likely make Dean all that more determined to spit in your face."

Debating on trying to wake Dean up, a ragged sound from Sam told the redheaded Angel that she needed to act quickly if even an angel's power were to save Sam Winchester.

"…De'n?" coughing on blood, Sam's eyes struggled to open when pain all over his body forced him back to a semi-consciousness. "De'n…where…?" he gasped as he tried to move to find his brother since he knew Dean wouldn't leave him. "…"

"Dean fell asleep, Sam," Anna told him as she stepped closer to the bed, sitting on the very edge with a gentle smile. "He didn't want to but I'm afraid hearing me made him move too fast and he…passed out."

Body in agony, eyes fighting to clear, Sam heard the soft female voice and while he wanted to tense the moment his wounds reacted to the aura Anna gave off, he recognized her and decided he was dying anyway so it didn't matter if he died on his own or if an angel killed him.

"Don'…hurt…him," he whispered, finally able to see and saw that Anna still looked the same as she had the last time he'd seen her in that barn right before she'd gotten her Grace back.

Sam had never asked his brother exactly what had happened between him and Anna that one night but all he'd known was that the young woman had made Dean happy even if it had just been for a short time.

It was this reason that he really didn't think she'd hurt Dean. Sam realized his brother would probably be hurt bad enough as it were from this but he just didn't have the strength to fight which he would've done to protect Dean.

"I'm not here to hurt Dean, Sam," Anna assured him, lifting her hand slowly and offered a calm smile when Sam winced, a soft whimper being heard when her hand lightly touched his face. "I'm not here to hurt either of you."

Sensing Sam's pain along with his fear made Anna hurt. As an Angel she understood the basic reason that her former superiors wouldn't approve of Sam but it was her ability to also sense the inner goodness in him that angered her at Zachariah's willingness to do what he has.

Not feeling pain when she touched him, Sam slowly relaxed to try to move his eyes so he could find Dean then guessed it was probably better if his brother did sleep through this part.

"Anna…tell Dean…I'm…" fingers gripped into the mattress as his chest suddenly bloomed in pain and Sam felt his heart beat fast then slow down. "He'll…be hurt."

Understanding that in some way Sam knew that regardless of what Castiel believed or told Dean that his brother would end up being hurt in some way, Anna nodded. "You'll be with him, Sam. You and Dean will get through this," she replied, smiling at his look and realized this was what Dean meant by his brother's 'bitch-face'. "You're not going to die, Sam."

"He…can't help…hospital can't…help," Sam gasped, feeling the amulet in his palm warm when Anna placed her other hand over his while keeping her other on his face. "Don't wanna die but…Anna?"

Smiling again, Anna met Sam's eyes fully as she began to let her full power build. "Close your eyes, Sam," she advised, squeezing his hand while leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead. "Tell Dean that no matter what else happens…I won't forget him or that night in the Impala."

This time when Sam groaned it wasn't so much from pain but from too much information. He knew if Dean had been upset about Sam's description of his early time with Ruby then he really didn't like the imagery of his brother and a then former Angel in the backseat of the car Sam still mainly thought of as home.

However before he could think of a proper response, Sam felt the warmth in his palm begin to spread up his arm until it slowly seemed to go through his entire body and despite having his eyes closed against the brightening light he could see or feel, he wasn't sure which, each wound begin to slowly close.

Clenching his teeth against the pain of now healing wounds, Sam gasped when he felt whatever was on the back of his neck do more than just pinch at Anna's healing. He swore he could almost hear an angry roar deep in his thoughts only to have the softer tone of Anna's voice override it.

Sam wasn't certain of the language she was using. He only knew when he felt her slender hand move from his face to the back of his neck the pain that was close to making him writhe eased away until it was just a dull ache.

Suddenly it was like a switch being flipped and Sam felt the pain stop. His tired body which had been emotionally and physically wrecked for days just went limp with Anna's words in his ears.

"Some wounds will need Dean to watch for a day or so since I can only do so much but these won't reopen," she'd made certain of that just as she had that Zachariah wouldn't be able to affect them without direct contact. "You'll have the memories of that time and place just as Dean has his but Sam Wesson will just be a memory. Take care, be careful and always remember that no matter what he says or how he acts that Dean's your brother and he will always be there for you."

As Sam pondered that, the warmth of the amulet in his hand once again got nearly hot then a final surge of warmth and assurance shot through him and he sat up with a gasp, eyes fully clear for the first time in what he figured had to be days.

Looking around, Sam tried to figure out where he was. Anna was gone but his eyes shot to where his brother was laying on the really bright neon green shag carpet.

A quick look at his chest and arms showed Sam that the wounds he knew had been there were gone even though he knew where the ones were that he'd have to let Dean see, right then his biggest concern was getting to his brother because one look told him that Dean looked about as bad as Sam still felt.

Easing a leg off the bed he heard a door then a shout from a voice that made him breathe a sigh of relief. "Dean? What the hell's going on?" Bobby demanded, grumbling as he climbed the ladder to the loft that even he hadn't been expecting to look this odd. "Every damn one of the electronics in my truck and the other cabin just blew up and…" he paused as he took in the scene. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Bobby, where the hell are we?" Sam asked since he'd already taken in the heart shaped bed, the hangings on the wall of men, the carpet and the mirrors above the bed and knew this was not a place his brother would have picked on his own.

"Shut up, Sam," came the returning growl which made the younger Winchester smile weakly as he eased to his still weak knees beside Dean on the floor while looking at the amulet he still held and found that he had all the memories of his recent days, including the last few and hoped his brother really did feel the way he said he did.

**Some Time Later:**

"There's a stripper pole in that one back room!"

"Shut up."

"There's a stripper pole & what I'm pretty sure used to be a mechanical bull in that one back room!"

"Shut up."

"Plus a sunk in the floor bathtub with multiple pulsating shower heads in a bathroom bigger than the one bedroom with a real bed that also has a heated floor and what I swear is velvet walls."

"_Shut. Up_."

"That loft has a heart shaped bed bigger than a lot of motel rooms we stay in, a mirror over the bed, things hanging on the wall with paintings of _GUYS_ and neon green shag carpeting!

"Shut the hell up, idjit!"

The not so muted conversation once again made Dean Winchester wish he could find something heavy to cover his head with but as he went to roll to his stomach in the hopes of at least smothering his face to dull the pounding in his head he felt open air then his body striking solid wood when he fell off the sofa to the floor with a short curse.

"Son of a _bitch_!"

Green eyes snapped open as soon as he hit, Dean offered a short and pithy string of obscenities to the soon to be dead moron who decided he'd be better off on a sofa rather than a bed before remembering where he was and deciding he might not want the bed.

"I swear, you two are worse now than you were when you were four and he was barely crawling," Bobby Singer's voice echoed through Dean's head as he came to see what had happened and shook his head at seeing the younger man on the floor. "Need a hand?"

"No," Dean growled, figuring the floor was fine since he didn't think he had the energy to try to stand right then.

A look at a disgruntled Bobby reminded Dean of his last thoughts before his head exploded and he slit a dark look up. "You knocked me out," he accused, hearing something from the back of the cabin that both worried and confused him.

"Yep and if you do what you're thinking of doing now I'll knock you upside your head again," Bobby replied almost happily before he turned to shoot a scowl down the hall. "Hey! Quit playing with whatever the hell you found and get out here before your idjit brother tries something stupid again!"

"Dude, you couldn't get me to touch half the stuff in that one room without a ten foot pole and rubber gloves," Sam Winchester replied with a soft laugh, stepping into the main room and immediately knowing when he was pinned by a sharp look. "Um, hey," he murmured.

Sam still felt tired but supposed that he would considering the last week. A shower, clean clothes, a few bites of food and a couple short naps had helped him feel more like himself.

Now as he stood watching his older brother, he could feel his nerves coming back because Sam knew it would depend on Dean's reaction how things went from then on.

Bobby had stepped back to give the brothers space but as the silence and the tension built he was debating on giving the older one a swift kick in the ass if he didn't get moving when he finally saw Dean's expression change from hard, to wary, to surprise until finally it went to relief.

"Sammy," shoving to his feet easily and ignoring Bobby's attempt to steady him, Dean shoved past him to close the gap between himself and his suddenly uneasy little brother in three steps to reach out without thought or care to his normal 'no chick flick' rule and pull Sam in for a hard hug.

Slightly surprised by this sudden move Sam tensed on instinct since too many times recently had things gotten violent between them and it was only when he realized that his brother's action was out of honest relief at seeing Sam alive that he slowly returned the gesture.

While always the more emotional out of the two of them, Sam had slowly begun to hold back his when it became clear how distant he and Dean were becoming. Despite the times recently when he wanted to share them or show more than he did, Sam closed them off to avoid the pain of having his more abrupt as of late brother turn away.

A part of Sam nearly did that now until he felt the grip tighten and then all the buried feelings he'd had while fighting to regain control of his own mind, the fears of dying, the thought of dying despite everything his brother had already given up to save him once suddenly broke inside and Sam felt himself latch on much like the night he opened a motel room door to see Dean standing there.

Once Bobby saw that the boys seemed alright he decided to step outside to give them a chance to talk alone and to make sure his old friend didn't decide to come back over. Sam's reaction was one thing but he knew without a doubt what Dean's would be and wanted to avoid that.

Hearing the soft click of the door told Dean they were alone and after holding the hug another two seconds, which was still longer than he normally would have except for when his brother had been small and scared, he pushed Sam back to arm's length but kept both hands on his neck as if looking for something wrong.

"You can tell me how later," he decided once he was certain he wasn't dreaming and that his brother was standing in front of him when something else suddenly hit him. "You…are okay, right, Sam?"

Understanding the meaning behind that cautious question Sam slowly nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright, Dean," he assured his worried brother then felt Dean suddenly weave and made a grab for him. "How about you?"

"Shut up, smartass," Dean growled, letting Sam nudge him back toward the sofa but snagged a firm hold of his brother before he could move back. "How are you alright then?" he knew he probably didn't want to know and honestly didn't care but needed to anyway. "I…damn it, Sam. I thought you were dead when I woke up and…"

"Yeah, you owe Bobby a huge apology too, dude," Sam remarked, wincing a little as he sat down beside Dean but didn't look right at him yet. "Anna…I guess she healed me. I woke up looking for you and…Dean,"

Tensing at the thought of his hurt and confused brother waking up alone with the knowledge that he was dying and him not being there. "I…swore I'd be there, kid. I was pissed off that I couldn't help you, that Cas wasn't answering me then I heard…Anna was here?"

"She said you'd been awake too long and that was why you weren't with me," shifting a look next to him, Sam didn't miss the shadows under his brothers' eyes or the clear signs of exhaustion still showing despite the days that Dean had slept. "Why didn't you sleep?" he asked, seeing the look of 'are you kidding me' he got in return.

"_Hel-lo_? You were hurt and half the time your brain wasn't exactly your own? Kinda hard to sleep when I needed to stay by you," Dean rolled his eyes but still caught the flicker on Sam's face that reminded him that it had been a long time since he'd done that sort of thing. "Then when the wounds started popping up I knew I needed to be close in case anything else happened."

Flashes of memory came to Sam of hearing his brother's voice always close to him, even when he hadn't been in control he somehow knew Dean had always been there. "I thought…" he didn't know what he'd thought or how to approach what he wanted to say without the fear of pushing Dean away. "You know…he told you…damn…"

Seeing Sam struggling gave Dean a clue as to what his brother was trying to say and guessed he could forgo the rest of the no chick flick rule for the day and call do over later. "I don't hate you, Sam," he began slowly, hearing the sharp breath and feeling Sam tense since they both knew how distant and cool Dean had been treating him lately.

"We've had a lot of crap happen between us since I've been back and yeah, I've been giving you hell for most of it but…it's not all your fault," Dean sat up fully so he could lay a hand on the back of his brother's neck which had always been his way of showing silent support or assurance when Sam needed it the most. Now he hoped it wasn't something that Sam shifted away from.

"I've told you…a few things from my time in Hell and I won't tell you more but…coming back from that, it hasn't been as easy to forget or get over as I thought it would be," he admitted, making himself stay sitting despite the inner urge to pace since even the thought of Hell and being this close to Sam bugged him.

"I thought I could come back, find you, pick up where we left off…hunting, killing things…the family business. But it…hasn't been like that and I've taken a lot of that out on you," Dean felt Sam tense but just tightened the grip he had enough to warn Sam to stay still but not enough to hurt him, which was something else he figured was a shock to his quiet brother.

Sam didn't mind the hand on his neck since he'd grown up with that gesture from his anti-emotional brother but since he didn't know what else to expect from this sudden serious discussion Sam couldn't quite stop himself from tensing or the way his hands shook.

"I lied to you…about Ruby, about what I was doing so I knew you'd be mad. It just…hurt what you said about if you didn't know me…you'd want to…hunt me and on top of what I heard this time…" Sam cut off, not wanting these memories this soon when he felt Dean's fingers tighten again. "Dean…"

The shaking soft voice gave Dean the answer he'd been wondering about. "Finding out about Ruby, about what she had you doing on top of getting time-jumped back to learn way more about Mom and Dad than I really wanted to know left me raw, Sam.

"It bugged me when I really saw how much of you had changed or I thought had changed but now I'm starting to see that while you're not the same as you were when I left when my deal came due because you had to grow up to survive…you will always still be my little brother," Dean paused until Sam's eyes slowly moved to meet his and he saw the same huge puppy dog eyes he'd been hoping to see.

"You're not a monster, Sammy. You didn't ask for those powers and while I hope you know the line you're walking and when not to cross it…I will always have your back and no one will ever hunt you," he added firmly, giving a firm squeeze on Sam's neck to stress his point. "Now, I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like this place when I really think about it so…you have a free chick flick moment coming, take it."

Blinking at Dean in surprise, Sam started to make a comment about his brother must be tired if he was willing to say that but then decided to take him up on the offer.

"The first week or so after you…died were like I was walking through a fog. I didn't give a crap about anything but killing demons and finding a way to hurt Lilith. Even after Ruby showed up, I was still going down a path I knew in my heart that you wouldn't like but I…couldn't stop it," Sam looked at his hands rather than at his brother, reaching into the pocket of his shirt to remove the newly cleaned amulet. "I got careless one night in a bar fight and ended up with a piece of glass in my stomach. I was bleeding out and I didn't give a damn."

Dean had been expecting Sam to take him up on the offer of a free chick moment but he hadn't been expecting this type of admission or the tone of self-hate that he could hear now and that made him pay more attention. "I taught you better than to get taken out in a bar fight, Sammy," he chided, hoping he could ease Sam back into a lighter mood but the moment Sam's jaw clenched he knew this wasn't going to be good and stayed still to listen.

"I knew Ruby's reasons were sound. I knew every demon I killed put me one step closer to Lilith and getting you out of that damn pit that I put you in," Sam missed the sudden flash in Dean's eyes as he kept focusing on his wrist and also on the amulet. "I also knew what you'd be saying if you knew what I was doing. I knew you'd hate it and probably hate me but I was willing to chance it if I could find a way to save you.

"Now you're back and you found out about it, about me…you've seen it…and you do hate me. I didn't need that angel to say that. I knew it by how you've been acting with me but to hear you…say it…that hurt," Sam murmured, voice low like it always was when he was struggling to bury his deeper emotions and not let the tears fall.

"Huh," Dean grunted, feeling the muscle in his jaw twitch as his temper sparked but shoved it aside since his anger wasn't at his brother. "When…when did I say I hated you?" he asked quietly, easing his hand down to Sam's shoulder both in support and to keep his brother sitting still because he knew in a minute Sam would shoot to his feet in order to put distance between them.

Not expecting the quiet tone or the question, Sam turned to look and caught the intense expression his brother usually only got when debating on if he was getting angry or not. "What?" he had to think then frowned. "Before…this happened," he shook his head. "I mean, after we…they…whoever we were there killed that ghost and we got separated. You agreed with…that bald guy you say is an Angel and said…"

"Uh-huh, alright," Dean bit the side of his tongue to keep from growling in any way that would upset his brother but swore he'd find a way to hurt the next angel who had the guts to show up. "Did you see me or just hear me?" he demanded tightly, silently hoping he didn't get the reply he feared was coming but knew the second Sam's head dropped what had happened. "_Sonuvabitch_," he gritted, grabbing onto the shoulder he still was touching. "Stay."

Guessing if the angels had the ability to alter a reality and screw with their heads then they could make Sam see and hear crap that wasn't there if it was a way to further hurt him or make him doubt or fear Dean more. The issue for Dean now was to convince his brother that it hadn't been him.

"Sam…" he stopped when the shoulder under his hand went rigid and understood. He'd been using his brother's name more due to the stress between them when normally Dean would call Sam by his nickname, the one that only Dean could use. "Sammy, that wasn't me."

Moving so he could make Sam's eyes meet his, Dean waited until he was sure Sam would listen and understand. "When we killed that ghost, by the way we're also paying a visit to those two geeks, I didn't see you again until I got to that hospital. What you heard or what you saw was not me," he reached over to firmly lift his brother's chin up to keep his eyes on him.

"That damn bald son of a bitch is playing us, Sammy. A lot of people are playing us and while I won't say we will still have issues I'm only going to say this one time," Dean paused to settle his emotions before adding firmly. "You're my brother. A pain in my ass usually but still my little brother and I would still die for you. I also want this crap stopped that you put me in Hell because I made the choice, I made the deal."

"And you're still suffering for it," Sam replied, expecting some yelling but he wasn't expecting the small sad smile from Dean.

"I've been doing that since Dad made the deal that saved my life. I shouldn't have lived after that crash and we both know it," Dean watched his brother process all this and rolled his eyes at the frown he saw. "Do you believe I hate you, Sam?"

"No," Sam whispered, hoping he was right. "I know you're mad at me for what I've said and done recently but…I still didn't mean what I said with the Siren or anything, Dean," he had a hard time explaining to his brother what he'd been trying to understand himself. "I didn't believe that crap when I was saying it but it just came out.

"You're my brother. I still look up to you no matter how much I've failed you. I just wish we could still be like we were before," Sam sighed, suddenly feeling tired. "I thought maybe you'd prefer having…him since he hadn't made anywhere close to the screw-ups I have."

Having to take a second to figure that out, Dean stared then lightly slapped his brother in the back of his head. "Dude, he was a bigger geek than you and I can only handle one huge super geek in my life and that's my little brother," he heard Sam chuckle then made a grab to slip his brother into a headlock when he wanted to finish relieving the tension in the room.

"Smith and Wesson are a great team…when it comes to being a gun. We're Winchesters, Sammy and I don't want anyone besides my pain in the ass, big brained brother riding shotgun with me," Dean finished, letting go but not missing the still visible wound on Sam's neck. "You still got wounds?"

"A few," Sam admitted more easily, relaxed since he'd gotten some things off his chest and did believe his brother that it hadn't been him he'd seen or heard. "Anna says you can look at 'em," he paused to run his tongue over his teeth, hearing Dean grunt then chose to add. "She also said to tell you that she'll always remember that night in the Impala."

Pushing himself up from the sofa to go in search of food, Dean lost his balance and struggled to keep a straight face despite the bright eyed look of curious innocence his brother was giving him. "Uh, yeah…" he coughed, this time not being so gentle when he punched Sam's shoulder. "Shut up or I'll toss it back at you about Ruby or…"

"I never had sex with Ruby in the back of our car, Dean," Sam broke in, inwardly shuddering at even the thought of that since to him the Impala was home and sacred. "Geez, you and Anna? Really? Now I won't be able to sit in the car without images of my brother having sex with an Angel."

"Shut up, Sam," Dean growled, debating on tossing his brother into the lake but vetoed that since Bobby would bitch and it'd be his luck his illness prone sibling would catch something which was bad since Sam wasn't fun when he was sick. "I didn't comment too much when you had to spell it out in graphic detail what went on between you and Ruby and Anna wasn't an Angel then."

Another flip retort was on the tip of his tongue when Sam suddenly realized this was the first time in weeks, since the mess with the Siren that he and Dean had actually bickered without it being mean or for real. He seemed to stumble a little over that thought. "Dean…are we good now?"

"If you drop bugging me about Anna then yeah, we're good," Dean grumbled, getting the sudden change because he'd also just had the same thought. "So, can I have that back now?" he glanced at his amulet.

Surprise made Sam look down and he nodded, holding it out. "I woke up with it," he knew Dean had let him hold it since the hospital. "Thanks."

"It beat letting you choke me with it," Dean smirked then laid his hand back on Sam's neck. "Sammy, I know I don't say this to you a lot but…I…c'mon, are you really going to make me say it?"

Laughing, Sam moved to give a quick brotherly one shoulder hug before stepping back. "I should," he grinned then headed for the kitchen which was his way of letting Dean know he understood what he'd been trying to say. "I think Bobby brought burgers."

"Thank God," Dean rolled his eyes at the thought of food since his stomach was reminding him that sleep wasn't the only thing he'd been lacking.

Slipping the amulet back over his head, Dean felt its familiar weight and relaxed. Looking toward the kitchen he thought back on the past several days since he woke up in the Impala and smiled fully as he heard Sam groan about something he'd found in the fast food bag. "I love you, little brother," he whispered, deciding one day he'd actually say that out loud to Sam when his brother wasn't hurt or on the verge of dying.

"Hey," Sam called from the kitchen, deciding since he wasn't dead and he and Dean weren't fighting at the moment to have a little fun. "This cabin is…weird."

"Tell me something I don't know, kid," Dean shot back, trying to recall the argument his brother and Bobby were having when he woke up but only getting images of stripper poles and old riding bulls in his head. "Your point on that would be what?"

Sticking a carrot stick in his mouth rather than laugh, Sam fought for a straight face. "Have you seen the stripper pole and the other stuff in the back room?" he held out a burger but knew he'd gotten Dean's full attention as his brother seemed to be putting things together slowly. "Oh and Bobby's old friend that owns this place? His name was Fred."

Debating on biting into the burger that seemed to be calling to him or paying full attention to what his now fully grinning brother was saying, Dean's eyes narrowed. "Used to be?" he frowned, knowing he'd hate himself for the next question. "What…what's his name now, Sammy?"

"Freida," Sam replied then quickly bit his lip as he dropped his head while adding. "He's a sixty-two year old ex-biker with a beard down to his knees…wearing sequins. This place is where he and his…buddies hang out on weekends…Dean?"

Suddenly all the pieces dropped into place and Dean's hunger left as he dropped the burger, shot a finger toward his struggling not to laugh brother while whirling to go in search of Bobby Singer. "You, pack," he told Sam, halfway out the door. "We're gone as soon as I throw Bobby in the lake. **Bobby**!"

"Your idjit brother has a damn big mouth when he's awake," Bobby could be heard complaining as he headed off the highly upset hunter. "Dean, I swear when I told you to come here I didn't know this damn old fool had gone experimental…"

"The shag carpeting and heated floor not enough of a clue?" Dean shot back, hearing Sam's full laughter coming from the cabin and vowing to make him pay…later since it made him happy just to hear his brother's laugh in any form even if it was mainly at his expense.

Sam peeked his head out the door to make sure his brother wasn't in Bobby's face too much when he caught sight of the 6'6" owner of the cabin hiking down the trail in neon high tops, shorts that seemed much too flashy for his age and a sequin tank top and he knew the moment Dean saw him too because his brother's face literally paled.

Knowing Dean as well as he did and understanding his brother's reactions to certain things, Sam was already moving to grab the duffel bags he'd packed a day ago. "Sammy! You! Impala! Now!" he heard the shout and was still laughing as he stepped outside to have both bags taken from him and tossed into the trunk.

"Gee, is that a worse image than me and Ruby, Dean?" he asked innocently, ducking when Dean tossed his jacket at his head and still chuckling an hour after Dean had gotten them back on the road and well away from the cabin that if Sam was honest would probably even give him nightmares.

"Never again," Dean growled, mentally scrubbing his brain of the image that old man presented. "The next time I listen to Bobby about staying someplace it's gonna be somewhere we've stayed before and he'll swear on a stack of Bibles that it isn't someplace that Dad would've choked over."

Managing to stop laughing a little, Sam yawned. Shifting his shoulders until he was curled against the door like he normally slept when in the front seat, he felt his brother's leather jacket being tossed his way since it had only been thrown into the car in Dean's haste to leave the cabin in West Virginia.

"Kinda reminded me of that stripper club Caleb took me took that one time," he murmured, feeling his eyes drift shut and smiling a little as sleep came to the sound of the Impala's engine, Legos rattling in the heater, classic rock blaring on the radio and the outraged shout of his once again shocked older brother.

"What the hell do you mean the stripper club Caleb took you to?" Dean demanded, fighting to keep his eyes on the road but still throw his sleeping brother a dark look. "When did Caleb take you to a strip joint, Sam? Sammy? _Sonuvabitch_!"

**The End**

**A/N: **_Well, that's it. I hope everyone enjoyed this one and look for more stories coming soon._


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